Plaidoirie For A Prince Of Jaffna?
Blue blood gushes when heroes die
From gory wounds on battlefields
Not in castle intrigues when for a lie
Crowns use commoners as shields.
A royal house does not construct itself
After centuries have broken tradition
Or on formal rules on how to name itself
Nor on who should follow in succession.
A true prince re-possesses the land first
Takes for his witnesses native-born citizens
Bids them follow his will out of dire thirst
Not as the self-crowned leader of denizens.
To be born a Kshastriya is not a privilege,
The birthright is even an act of sacrilege
If he who dons the crown scorns the people;
A spurned poem in the culled florilege.
In the blown sliver of land at Great Bharat's feet
No one knows what Tamil line came to greet
Found refuge and took throne to announce a reign
Nor helas to make much of a glorious feat.
Kings are not born to hoist the castial banner,
Rather had they earlier scaled the social ladder
Through heroic deeds by protecting the masses;
Chieftains peer-elected to top the social order.
A Prince may not bring dishonour to his kingdom
In times of strive for the sake of Christendom;
If he seeks spurious honours to feather his nest
And alienates a people who die for freedom.
A King is he who in high danger opts for sacrifice
Like Kattabomman seeking no excuse nor artifice
Met the East India Company's Collector all alone
And fought his valiant way through gunfire malice.
The history of Tamil kingdoms in all ages gone by
Teaches us the same lesson made proverbial by
An Ettappan who in his insatiable envy of grandeur
Caused the ultimate Tamil Prince to hang high.
We live in a world where politicians are the real Princes
Who wear no crowns but their ministerial pince-nez;
Yet other captains struggle against such fait accompli
And in jungles forge a human bulwark of chances.
It's not the cherry on the icing that makes a cake
If underneath the slender icing over a lake
Wild worms bore at the crust raised in protection,
Won't people then take a Kshastriya for a fake.
If you want to be king then let your voice be true
Renounce all wish to be ordained a true blue;
Let the people choose what they want for a crown
If they need you, will they not call upon you.
Uneasy the head which wears the realm's crown
While the people fret and fume and frown;
See how caretaker John usurps the Lion-Heart's throne:
Uneasier the head become the butt of a clown.
Lay aside all thought of fame
In the quest for a feudal name;
He who assumes an ancient title
Must prove worthy of the same.
poem by T. Wignesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Classical Tamil
Yes, Tamil has got classical status
Because it is an ancient language great,
That lives and grows midst people globally,
Enchanting, enthralling all equally.
Yes, Tamil makes the Tamilian proud,
And the culture of India to look great,
Amusing scholars of the modern world
Through songs, and dramas; films and poetry.
Yes, Tamil has a history that is old,
And spoken by ten crores of people well,
And makes its progress in a rapid pace,
And has a future that is promising!
Yes, Tamil perhaps could be Gods’ language,
With untold beauty, grandeur and glory,
That holds many a heart dumbfounded with
Immortal works of priceless heritage.
Dedicated to Tamil Chemmozhi Manadu, June,2010
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-6-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crown Him With Many Crowns
Musical adaptation: michael w. smith
Crown him with many crowns,
The lamb upon the throne:
Hark! how the heavnly anthem drowns
All music but its own!
Awake, my soul, and sing
Of him who died for thee,
And hail him as thy matchless king
Thru all eternity.
Crown him with many crowns
Crown him with many crowns
Crown him the lord of heavn:
One with the father known.
One with the spirit thru him givn
From yonder glorious throne.
To thee be endless praise.
For thou hast died for me;
Be thou, o lord, thru endless days
Adored and magnified
Adored and magnified
Crown him with many crowns
His glories now we sing,
Who died and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring
And...lives that death may die.
Crown him with many crowns
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I a King
i am the king of this place i made, i am the wizard, who
knows the in and out of this wonderful house, do i am the
master of this arena and the captain of my siblings, so
every time i speak everybody has to listen
in every show, the king must know and what ever
movement, i the king had to go, as the spark lighted
a fire in the chimney; becomes the hell of eternity, so true
to the little feather of an angel, lifted every soul to the
heaven where everyone has to go away
the kingdom i offer to stay, is suited for us to live, not a
wonder land, but a garden full of flowers and fountain
that sprinkled calmness to your mind, where a relaxing
zooming cool spa of perfumes in your delicate soft skin,
with the hamming of birds, will lift you high as the sky;
your dream of the blue bird surely close your imagination
of heaven, on earth has come to live in your magical
wand
am I a king in your memory, a thousand ship of your
destiny where adage of great people lies in my head, you
will always be happy, come my dear love one, let me
handle your destiny, you'll always be in the castle, where i
made for thee
you've dress a golden gown, a glittering diamond in
your head, and a shinning jade in your dress, with my
heart, i'll offer you to set in the rainbow, near in my
throne and crown you as my queen
please sleep my beloved wife and as you wake up, your
wonderful dream will come true.......
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tamil New Year Day,2009
Today is ‘Tamil New Year Day’ –
A day of joy and happiness,
That fills the hearts of Tamilians,
Wherever they may be, they say!
Let Tamil foster friendship, love;
Let Tamil ignite hearts and minds;
Let Tamil bring new hope to all;
Let Tamil thrive and fill the world!
Let Tamil serve not to divide;
Let Tamil bond only unite;
Let Tamil grow in leaps and bounds;
Let Tamil live to make all live!
Let wars all cease and peace prevail;
Let love of brethren become prime;
Let Tamils live with dignity;
Let Tamil rule the world some day!
Fondly dedicated to Tamilians all over the world!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-14-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eternal Crowns
Christ, King of Kings was born a babe to grow and die in our stead,
He was honored with a scarlet robe a crown of thorns upon his head.
Although Christ was mocked and forced to wear an ugly crown of pain,
The faithful who should have died, they're promised a crown of gain.
Paul says that runners in a race receive a crown that will not last,
But we will receive Eternal Crowns that at Jesus' feet will be cast.
Paul even refers to those he led to Christ as his joy and his crown,
And these are people just like you and me from any city or any town.
But one won't receive a victor's crown unless he obeys all the rules,
This makes some adjust their pace to win, but not the simple fools.
But the man who perseveres under trials by fools who create strife,
And to those who love Him, God above has promised the Crown of life.
Many like Paul, on that day shall receive a Crown of righteousness,
This to all who longed for Jesus' return with a special Seriousness.
And for all the pastors who faithfully pointed all to the coming day,
Friend, they will receive a crown of glory that will never fade away.
And the Tribulation Saints tested with unheard of hate and strife,
Being faithful to the point of death, will receive the crown of life.
Then all will see The Son of Man with a crown of gold upon his head,
With a sickle harvesting souls, leaving behind the spiritually dead.
(Copyright © 06/2003)
Check if you are a Tamil
To be a Tamil, to be born to Tamils
And to speak Tamil as mother tongue
Aren’t alone a sufficient proof.
You must speak vowels tearing apart and
With nouns in English and verbs in Tamil.
You must have a hero higher than God
And read, if at all, the news of movies.
You will do public nuisances at length
And must be insensitive to them.
You shall respect Tamil and ignore Tamils.
You celebrate festivals by watching
In TV Tamil debates and stars’ talks.
You seek south Indian restaurants abroad.
Then you can boast you are a true Tamil.
19.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Princes Of The Universe
Words and music by freddie mercury
Here we are.born to be kings.
Were the princes of the universe.
Here we belong.fighting to survive.
In a world with the darkest powers.
And here we are.were the princes of the universe.
Here we belong.fighting for survival.
Weve come to be the rulers of your world.
I am immortal.i have inside me blood of kings.
I have no rival.no man can be my equal.
Take me to the future of your world.
Born to be kings.princes of the universe.
Fighting and free.got your world in my hand.
Im here for your love and Ill make my stand.
We were born to be princes of the universe.
No man could understand.my power is in my own hand.
Ooh.ooh.ooh.ooh.people talk about you.
People say youve had your day.
Im a man that will go far.
Fly the moon and reach for the stars.
With my sword and head held high.
Got to pass the test first time - yeah.
I know that people talk about me I hear it every day.
But I can prove you wrong cos Im right first time.
Yeah.yeah.alright.watch this man fly.
Bring on the girls.
Here we are.born to be kings.were the princes of
The universe.here we belong.born to be kings.
Princes of the universe.fighting and free.
Got the world in my hands.Im here for your love.
And Ill make my stand.
We were born to be princes of the universe.
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A dirge for O'Connell
Throw open, once again,
The portals of the tomb;
And give, among the glorious dead,
Another hero room!
Unclose your shadowy ranks,
Illustrious shades, unclose!
The valiant Leader, crowned with years,
Goes down to his repose.
The champion of Peace,
On many a well-fought field,
Whose bloodless victories left no stain
On his untarnished shield.
A king, though on his brow
No jewelled crown might shine;
A king, although his patriot blood
Flowed from no royal line.
A sovereign o'er that realm,
No boundaries can confine;
Whose throne was in a nation's heart;
Who reigned by right divine.
A soldier of the Cross,
Who bore a stainless brand;
The preacher of a new Crusade,
To rescue a lost land.
Rome! to thy care is given
The heart whose throbs are o'er;
Eternal City! to thy charge
Take this one relic more!
And Erin, sad and lorn!
Take thou the sacred trust;
And let the soil he loved so well,
Commingle with his dust.
And Fame, take thou in charge
The patriot's renown;
And gather from your amaranth fields,
Another fadeless crown!
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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King Happy, Frog of Doom
Meet King Happy, Frog of Doom.
Withought Queen, Under moon.
Though he was a friendly frog,
Tragedy struck him often.
People would claim to be his friend
To take what could be gotten.
The stress had caused his eyes to cross.
Despite his life of constant loss,
He always had his crown.
This King of course he had no land,
No people to call his own.
To be honest he proclaimed himself a King
Wishing not to be alone.
So he always had his crown. (So what if he had his crown?)
Forgetting to take it off one day,
He sank and slowly drowned.
poem by King Happy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Amen
He walked like a prince
though a pauper he was born.
He looked like a prince
on each and every morn.
His eyes, they were dazzling
and shining like a crown.
His friends that were paupers
followed him around.
Worship was given him.
They bowed at his feet.
He told them to rise
and stand up to greet
the sun in the sky
that shone for them as well.
and never to be afraid
for that's a living hell.
He talked like a prince
and his words traveled far.
He spoke of the thing that
we're all made of.
He spoke of the wonders
of the creation of love.
And those that believed
were never the same.
They became princes just like He
and the paupers were filled with serenity.
Some got lost along the way
and forgot about the sun shining every day.
They fell by the wayside
and darkness stepped in,
followed by greed and the treachery of sin.
Still the prince became a KING.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Was Born and Raised
When the sun was hanging bright
And the moon gloom with execsive light
Then I was born
When the days were constantly burning
And the cloud immensely weeping
Then I was born
When human were not humble
And the races were different people
Then I was born
When actions were filled with advantage
And the minds were like gabbage
Then I was born
When the street were filled with blood
And human words were built with fraud
Then I was born
When parents cannot make their stomach feed
And they cannot take the responsibility of their breed
Then I was born
Where the people were just part of a story
And their effort was to build another man glory
Their I was raised
Where men were like iron
But their strength was for a corn
Their I was raised
Where people were deprived
And from them wealth is derived
There I was born and raised
Where the land is good
But the people cannot make their food
Their I was born and raised
Where the place is called africa
And the people are called african
Their I was born and raised
I was born and raised
Where the people’s destiny lies in the grave
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood' Brothers or 'Bloody' Brothers under the Banner
"A dying people tolerates the present, rejects the future, and finds its satisfactions in past greatness and half-remembered glory."
"A strong man makes a weak people. A strong people don't need a strong man."
John Steinbeck (Nobel Prize 1962)
for the DEAD in the Struggle for EELAM
I
Ages from now, let it not be said:
Blood spills only as brother dies.
Ages from now, let not peace be bled
By chances lost now in sighs.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean way!
Truth your only key, don't ever slay!
Where the elephant roams un-tethered free,
The familiar myna will echo carefree
Words of yore buried in sacred memory:
One breed, one species carved in ivory.
No greater fear simmers in the lowlands
Than the stealth of brother against brother;
No higher disdain festers in the highlands
Than vengeance lying in wait for the other.
II
Think not of the promises made and broken,
Think only of the time lost and forsaken.
Every hour, every day, a life blown or taken;
Every month, every year, a people woe-driven.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean path!
Truth your only key, never the lathe!
Think of Prince Paranirupasingham who to succour
King Jayavira's queen, to Kandy, fled his throne:
Abandoned to court intrigue, schemes and wiles encore:
A princely retreat, a physician's penance alone.
First governor, then regent, the last Jaffna King Cankili
Learnt best the conqueror's cruel art of slaughter;
Then, fired by the local converts' iniquitous treachery,
Revolted too late, his head the butt of lofty laughter.
Think of C.P. Ramanathan the island's cause to defend
Sailed over choppy seas past wild submarines
To raise the nation's flag in the court of the Empire's den,
His homeward chariot drawn by one peoples' teens.
III
What shame if might measures not with muscle?
What disgrace awaits those who fail?
Should wanting life be held lèse-majesté to a tussle?
Should a nation thrive as in a sundered jail?
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean road!
Truth your only key, never the sword!
Decades from now sawn men will in right ask:
Had we then no will to attend to our wounds?
Should not the White Master be called back to task
To bear the burden of our graveyard mounds?
What guidance should wise men need
More than their own tested counsels?
Lay, lay aside the pride of higher breed
Like two strong men upright in councils!
IV
People are made to feel their lives rendered great
By what their leaders do to invoke fate;
Destiny asks not who may stand in as its fated mate,
When all around lives are lost through hate.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean way!
Truth the only key, no, never slay!
If the Lion strays from its prescribed domain,
The Tiger will seek to sink its fangs in flanks.
Two kings bide their time in a land full of bane,
While the common folk lie razed by tanks.
V
Seek not to replace life with conundrums.
Seek only a life-giving solution.
Herald not the arrival of the enemy with drums.
Let only your heart speak in absolution.
The mountain cannot reach up to the sky.
The lake at the summit is full.
If monsoons come, calling cranes will cry.
Kindred spirits will rally in full.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean way!
Truth the only key, no, never ever slay!
Can a people simply grow strong in broken places
While strong men before the hour vacate places?
"Man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Man can be defeated but not destroyed."
(©: T.Wignesan - September 21,2005; from the Sequence: 'Words for a Lost Sub-Continent', Paris, France. Pub. in T. Wignesan. Rama and Ravana at the Altar of Hanuman: on Tamils, Tamil Literature and Tamil Culture. Chennai: Institute of Asian Studies,2006 & Allahabad: Cyberwit.net,2008.)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus
Come, thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
Born thy people to deliver,
Born a child, and yet a King,
Born to reign in us for ever,
Now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal Spirit,
Rule in all our hearts alone:
By thine all-sufficient merit,
Raise us to thy glorious throne. Amen.
poem by Charles Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan
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To Tame A Land
He is the king of all the land
In the kingdom of the sands
Of a time tomorrow
He rules the sandworms and the fremen
In a land amongst the stars
Of an age tomorrow
He is destined to be a king
He rules over everything
On the land called planet dune
Bodywater is your life
And without it you would die
On the desert the planet dune
Without the stillsuit you would fry
On the sands so hot and dry
In a world called arrakis
It is a land thats rich in spice
The sandriders and the mice
That they call the muad dib
He is the kwizatz haderach
He is born of caladan
And will take the gom jabbar
He has the power to foresee
Or to look into the past
He is the ruler of the stars
The time will come for him
To lay claim his crown
And then the foe yes
Theyll be cut down
Youll see hell be the
Best that theres been
Messiah supreme
True leader of men
And when the time
For judgements at hand
Dont fret hes strong
And hell make a stand
Against evil the fire
That spreads through the land
He has the power
To make it all end
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Three Kings
WHEN the star in the East was lit to shine
The three kings journeyed to Palestine;
They came from the uttermost parts of earth
With long trains laden with gifts of worth.
The first king rode on a camel's back,
He came from the land where the kings are black,
Bringing treasures desired of kings,
Rubies and ivory and precious things.
An elephant carried the second king,
He came from the land of the sun-rising,
And gems and gold and spices he bare
With broidered raiment for kings to wear.
The third king came without steed or train
From the misty land where the white kings reign.
He bore no gifts save the myrrh in his hand,
For he came on foot from a far-off land.
Now when they had travelled a-many days
Through tangled forests and desert ways,
By angry seas and by paths thorn-set
On Christmas Vigil the three kings met.
And over their meeting a shrouded sky
Made dark the star they had travelled by.
Then the first king spake and he frowned and said:
'By some ill spell have our feet been led,
'Now I see in the darkness the fools we are
To follow the light of a lying star.
'Let us fool no more, but like kings and men
Each get him home to his land again!'
Then the second king with the weary face,
Gold-tinct as the sun of his reigning place,
Lifted sad eyes to the clouds and said,
'It was but a dream and the dream is sped.
'We dreamed of a star that rose new and fair,
But it sets in the night of the old despair.
'Yet night is faithful though stars betray,
It will lead to our kingdoms far away.'
Then spake the king who had fared alone
From the far-off kingdom, the white-hung throne:
'O brothers, brothers, so very far
Ye have followed the light of the radiant star,
'And because for a while ye see it not
Shall its faithful shining be all forgot?
'On the spirit's pathway the light still lies
Though the star be hid from our longing eyes.
'To-morrow our star will be bright once more
The little pin-hole in heaven's floor--
'The Angels pricked it to let it bring
Our feet to the throne of the new-born King!'
And the first king heard and the second heard
And their hearts grew humble before the third.
And they laid them down beside bale and beast
and their sleeping eyes saw light in the East.
For the Angels fanned them with starry wings
And the waft of visions of unseen things.
And the next gold day waned trembling and white
And the star was born of the waxing night.
And the three kings came where the Great King lay,
A little baby among the hay,
The ox and the ass were standing near
And Mary Mother beside her Dear.
Then low in the litter the kings bowed down,
They gave Him gold for a kingly crown,
And frankincense for a great God's breath
and Myrrh to sweeten the day of death.
The Maiden Mother she stood and smiled
And she took from the manger her little child.
On the dark king's head she laid His hand
And anger died at that dear command.
She laid His hand on the gold king's head
And despair itself was comforted.
But when the pale king knelt in the stall
She heard on the straw his tears down fall.
And she stooped where he knelt beside her feet
And laid on his bosom her baby sweet.
And the king in the holy stable-place
Felt the little lips through the tears on his face.
* * * * * * *
Christ! lay Thy hand on the angry king
Who reigns in my breast to my undoing,
And lay thy hands on the king who lays
The spell of sadness on all my days,
And give the white king my soul, Thy soul,
Of these other kings the high control.
That soul and spirit and sense may meet
In adoration before Thy feet!
Now Glory to God the Father Most High,
And the Star, the Spirit, He leads us by.
And to God's dear Son, the Babe who was born
And laid in the manger on Christmas morn!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Psalm 47
Clap your hands all ye people
Shout unto God with all your might
For the Lord is high and lifted up
And He is glorious in our sight
The people lift their voice and sing
All glory to the risen King
Upon HIs throne He rules and reigns
Bestowing grace and breaking chains
God reigns over all the nations
And by HIs blood He brings salvation
Subduing death and crushing sin
And healing wounds from deep within
And one day every knee shall bow
To God above and Him alone
And every eye shall see our King
In His glory on HIs throne
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet and Lord
GOD makes a poet: touches soul and sight,
And lips and heart, and sends him forth to sing;
His fellows hearing, own the true birthright,
And crown him daily with the love they bring.
The king a lord makes, by a parchment leaf;
Though heart be withered, and though sight be dim
With dullard brain and soul of disbelief—
Ay, even so; he makes a lord of him.
What, then, of one divinely kissed and sent
To fill the people with ideal words,
Who with his poet's crown is discontent,
And begs a parchment title with the lords?
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When My country helps integrate another nationality
when integration becomes
another nation's task
my assamese friend talks
with my tamil nadu friend
in my country's language
to get to each other
It seems that the people in Tamil Nadu, southern india would only speak tamil though hindi is the national language. so when somebody from other parts of india meet with them, they have to either converse in english or in another country's language. quite a strange status quo isnt it?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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