En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Dream Or No

Why go to Saint-Juliot? What's Juliot to me?
I've been but made fancy
By some necromancy
That much of my life claims the spot as its key.

Yes. I have had dreams of that place in the West,
And a maiden abiding
Thereat as in hiding;
Fair-eyed and white-shouldered, broad-browed and brown-tressed.

And of how, coastward bound on a night long ago,
There lonely I found her,
The sea-birds around her,
And other than nigh things uncaring to know.

So sweet her life there (in my thought has it seemed)
That quickly she drew me
To take her unto me,
And lodge her long years with me. Such have I dreamed.

But nought of that maid from Saint-Juliot I see;
Can she ever have been here,
And shed her life's sheen here,
The woman I thought a long housemate with me?

Does there even a place like Saint-Juliot exist?
Or a Vallency Valley
With stream and leafed alley,
Or Beeny, or Bos with its flounce flinging mist?

poem by Thomas Hardy
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A Death-Day Recalled

Beeny did not quiver,
Juliot grew not gray,
Thin Valency's river
Held its wonted way.
Bos seemed not to utter
Dimmest note of dirge,
Targan mouth a mutter
To its creamy surge.

Yet though these, unheeding,
Listless, passed the hour
Of her spirit's speeding,
She had, in her flower,
Sought and loved the places -
Much and often pined
For their lonely faces
When in towns confined.

Why did not Valency
In his purl deplore
One whose haunts were whence he
Drew his limpid store?
Why did Bos not thunder
Targan apprehend
Body and breath were sunder
Of their former friend?

poem by Thomas Hardy
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Life long...

Life long dreams made
Life long debts paid
Life long fights won
Life long task done
Life long sorrow averted
Life long disasters diverted
Life long promises kept
Life long tears were wept
Life long hate is bound
Life long Love is found
Life long hearts as one
Life long end will come

poem by Troy Williams
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Sinner Or Saint

Stand bold, for the ride,
Right now, you know that is the place to be
To watch humankind, stumble into another century
Take no prisoners,
Their sure at giving you the run-around
Violance, on your mind,
Cus your attention is the battleground
What are you?
A sinner or saint
You gotta be
A sinner or saint
Ice cool walawyers,
Straight up and guerentee your gonna get
All that you deserve,
Sit down, blockin your way, seen nothin yet
(chorus)
What are you?
That is your fate
You gotta be
A sinner or saint
Some poeple love too fast
Some people live too long
And so Ive got to ask
Do you know right from wrong?
Disa-ssembler, will you ever, really be a saint...
Still on for the ride,
Who cares if you loose or win
They can bleed you dry,
When youre, a pumping the adrenelin
(chorus)
What are you?
Its never too late
You gotta be
A sinner or saint..

song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over The Alley

Here in my office I sit and write
Hour on hour, and day on day,
With no one to speak to from morn till night,
Though I have a neighbour just over the way.
Across the alley that yawns between
A maiden sits sewing the whole day long;
A face more lovely is seldom seen
In hall or castle or country throng.

Her curling tresses are golden brown;
Her eyes, I think, are violet blue,
Though her long, thick lashes are always down,
Jealously hiding the orbs from view;
Her neck is slender, and round, and white,
And this way and that way her soft hair blows,
As there in the window from morn till night,
She sits in her beauty, and sings and sews.

And I in my office chair, lounge and dream,
In an idle way, of a sweet 'might be, '
While the maid at her window sews her seam,
With never a glance or a thought for me.
Perhaps she is angry because I look
So long and so often across the way,
Over the top of my ledger-book;
But those stolen glances brighten the day.

And I am blameless of any wrong; -
She is the transgressor, by sitting there
And making my eyes turn oft and long
To a face so delicate, pure and fair.
Work is forgotten; the page lies clean,
Untouched by the pen, while hours go by.
Oh, maid of the pensive air and mien!
Give me one glance of your violet eye.

Drop your thimble or spool of thread
Down in the alley, I pray, my sweet,
Or the comb or ribbon from that fair head,
That I may follow with nimble feet;
For how can I tell you my heart has gone
Across the alley, and lingers there,
Till I know your name, my beautiful one?
How could I venture, and how could I dare?

Just one day longer I'll wait and dream,
And then, if you grant me no other way,
I shall write you a letter: 'Maid of the seam,
You have stolen my property; now give pay,
Beautiful robber and charming thief!
Give me one glance for the deed you've done.'
Thus shall I tell you my loss and grief,
Over the alley, my beautiful one.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Saint Amnesia

Saint Amnesia
Come down from the sky
And help the woman that is about to give birth
In a public washroon of the Arena during a Sunday Afternoon
That seems to be so strange that a woman would give birth to a baby in a public place in the afternoon
Don't you think so Saint Amnesia?
It sounds to me like a soap opera
Don't you think so Saint Amnesia?
But the truth is that life must go on
And when the woman's water breaks it means that the baby will be Born anywhere she is

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Sweet Dreams

Sweet dreams are made of many things
The different thoughts that we constantly think
The very things that that lie in our fantasies
And create a thought that's tenaciously sweet
That we savor so much while soundly asleep
Things that can only happen in dreams

My sweet dreams are made of you
The perfect moments and the perfect gloom
The perfect place and the perfect dream
But whatever could be more perfect than you?
Is only what I can conjure in my sleep

Life is a reality and dreams are the opposite
It's the time we find peace from every worry
It's a place where every story has a happy ending
It's a place where every person has a chance to be happy
It's a place where you and I have a happy ending

A cradle song before we sleep
And escape the grimes of reality
And the things that keep you away from me
Life is a reality and dreams are the opposite
Dreams are the sweetest and life is life
In my dreams you and I are happy
But in reality... life is life.
Sweet dreams are made of many things
And mine are made of you

poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
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The Maiden's Sorrow

Seven long years has the desert rain
Dropped on the clods that hide thy face;
Seven long years of sorrow and pain
I have thought of thy burial-place.

Thought of thy fate in the distant west,
Dying with none that loved thee near;
They who flung the earth on thy breast
Turned from the spot williout a tear.

There, I think, on that lonely grave,
Violets spring in the soft May shower;
There, in the summer breezes, wave
Crimson phlox and moccasin flower.

There the turtles alight, and there
Feeds with her fawn the timid doe;
There, when the winter woods are bare,
Walks the wolf on the crackling snow.

Soon wilt thou wipe my tears away;
All my task upon earth is done;
My poor father, old and gray,
Slumbers beneath the churchyard stone.

In the dreams of my lonely bed,
Ever thy form before me seems;
All night long I talk with the dead,
All day long I think of my dreams.

This deep wound that bleeds and aches,
This long pain, a sleepless pain--
When the Father my spirit takes,
I shall feel it no more again.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Saint Cloud

Soft spread the southern sumer night
Her veil of darksome blue;
Ten thousand stars combined to light
The terrace of Saint Cloud.

The evening breezes gently sigh'd,
Like breath of lover true,
Bewailing the deserted pride
And wreck of sweet Saint Cloud.

The drum's deep roll was heard afar,
The bugle wildly blew
Good-night to Hulan and Hussar
That garrison Saint Cloud.

The startled Naiads from the shade
With broken urns withdrew
And silenced was that proud cascade,
The glory of Saint Cloud.

We sate upon its steps of stone,
Nor could its silence rue
When waked, to music of our own,
The echoes of Saint Cloud.

Slow Seine might hear each lovely note
Fall light as summer dew
While through the moonless air they float
Prolong'd from fair Saint Cloud.

And sure a melody more sweet
His waters never knew,
Though music's self was wont to meet
With Princes at Saint Cloud.

Nor then, with more delighted ear,
The circle round her drew,
Than ours, when gather'd round to hear
Our songstress at Saint Cloud.

Few happy hours poor mortals pass-—
Then give those hours their due,
And rank among the foremost class
Our evenings at Saint Cloud.

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Red And Green Sky

There’s a place I’d never thought I’d show ya
It’s been so long since this space was found, as
We as people, walk with our heads firmly in the ground,
But at the end of the day your heads held up and away
So follow my steps and I’ll show you,
It’s not all the same at the end of the day, I promise you

Do you notice the sky up ahead?
“Where have all the greys and blues gone
You said, nothing looks the same”
But you’re in an unknown place,
A place with no need to name,
Underneath the red and green sky
Upon a mountain cliff, made of gold
You life played out before you,
A picture of revolving, glowing mold

Then whisked off into the sky, you left,
Whereabouts too is unknown,
Into the red and green sky you head,
Maybe being shown a brand new start
Away from the pain of life, where
Things start to make sense once again,
Now you see your life mend then blend
Into the red and green sky you went.

Returning regally re-dressed, you seem renewed,
The red and green sky did again, I thought.
As you stood, amazed by the truth, you spoke,
“Never to be the same again, never again”

We shared some strawberry wine,
To amuse ourselves
We drink to ourselves, to the sky
Underneath the red and green sky again
This is a place I’d never thought I’d show again
It’s been so long since this space was found
A place with no need to name,
Underneath the red and green sky, we came

poem by Daniel Richards
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By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore

By that Lake, whose gloomy shore
Sky-lark never warbles o'er,
Where the cliff hangs high and steep,
Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep.
"Here, at least," he calmly said,
"Woman ne'er shall find my bed."
Ah! the good Saint little knew
What that wily sex can do.

'Twas from Kathleen's eyes he flew --
Eyes of most unholy blue!
She had loved him well and long,
Wish'd him hers, nor thought it wrong.
Wheresoe'er the Saint would fly,
Still he heard her light foot nigh;
East or west, where'er he turn'd,
Still her eyes before him burn'd.

On the bold cliff's bosom cast,
Tranquil now he sleeps at last;
Dreams of heaven, nor thinks that e'er
Woman's smile can haunt him there.
But nor earth nor heaven is free
From her power, if fond she be:
Even now, while calm he sleeps,
Kathleen o'er him leans and weeps.

Fearless she had track'd his feet
To this rocky wild retreat;
And when morning met his view,
Her mild glances met it too.
Ah, your Saints have cruel hearts!
Sternly from his bed he starts,
And with rude repulsive shock
Hurls her from the beetling rock.

Glendalough, thy gloomy wave
Soon was gentle Kathleen's grave!
Soon the Saint (yet ah! too late,)
Felt her love, and mourn'd her fate.
When he said, "Heaven rest her soul!"
Round the Lake light music stole;
And her ghost was seen to glide,
Smiling, o'er the fatal tide.

poem by Thomas Moore
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De Bell Of St. Michel

Go 'way, go 'way, don't ring no more, ole bell of Saint Michel,
For if you do, I can't stay here, you know dat very well,
No matter how I close ma ear, I can't shut out de soun',
It rise so high 'bove all de noise of dis beeg Yankee town.

An' w'en it ring, I t'ink I feel de cool, cool summer breeze
Dat's blow across Lac Peezagonk, an' play among de trees,
Dey're makin' hay, I know mese'f, can smell de pleasant smell
O! how I wish I could be dere to-day on Saint Michel!

It's fonny t'ing, for me I'm sure, dat's travel ev'ryw'ere,
How moche I t'ink of long ago w'en I be leevin' dere;
I can't 'splain dat at all, at all, mebbe it's naturel,
But I can't help it w'en I hear de bell of Saint Michel.

Dere's plaintee t'ing I don't forget, but I remember bes'
De spot I fin' wan day on June de small san'piper's nes'
An' dat hole on de reever w'ere I ketch de beeg, beeg trout
Was very nearly pull me in before I pull heem out.

An' leetle Elodie Leclaire, I wonner if she still
Leev jus' sam' place she use to leev on 'noder side de hill,
But s'pose she marry Joe Barbeau, dat's alway hangin' roun'
Since I am lef' ole Saint Michel for work on Yankee town.

Ah! dere she go, ding dong, ding dong, its back, encore again
An' ole chanson come on ma head of 'a la claire fontaine,'
I'm not surprise it soun' so sweet, more sweeter I can tell
For wit' de song also I hear de bell of Saint Michel.

It's very strange about dat bell, go ding dong all de w'ile
For when I'm small garçon at school, can't hear it half a mile;
But seems more farder I get off from Church of Saint Michel,
De more I see de ole village an' louder soun' de bell.

O! all de monee dat I mak' w'en I be travel roun'
Can't kip me long away from home on dis beeg Yankee town,
I t'ink I'll settle down again on Parish Saint Michel,
An' leev an' die more satisfy so long I hear dat bell.

poem by William Henry Drummond
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Bein' Back Home

HOME agin, an' home to stay —
Yes, it's nice to be away.
Plenty things to do an' see,
But the old place seems to me
Jest about the proper thing.
Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries cling
Closer 'round yore place o' birth
'N ary other spot on earth.
W'y it's nice jest settin' here,
Lookin' out an' seein' clear,
'Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner haze
In these sweet October days.
What's as good as that there lane,
Kind o' browned from last night's rain?
'Pears like home has got the start
When the goal's a feller's heart.
What's as good as that there jay
Screechin' up'ards towards the gray
Skies? An' tell me, what's as fine
As that full-leafed pumpkin vine?
Tow'rin' buildin's — yes, they're good;
But in sight o' field and wood,
Then a feller understan's
'Bout the house not made with han's
Let the others rant an' roam
When they git away from home;
Jest gi' me my old settee
An' my pipe beneath a tree;
Sight o' medders green an' still,
Now and then a gentle hill.
Apple orchards, full o' fruit,
Nigh a cider press to boot —
That's the thing jest done up brown;
D'want to be too nigh to town;
Want to have the smells an' sights,
An' the dreams o' long still nights,
With the friends you used to know
In the keerless long ago.—
Same old cronies, same old folks,
Same old cider, same old jokes.
Say, it's nice a-gittin' back,
When yore pulse is growin' slack,
An' yore breath begins to wheeze
Like a fair-set valley breeze;
Kind o' nice to set aroun'
On the old familiar groun',
Knowin' that when Death does come,
That he'll find you right at home.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Don't Shed A Tear

Cab fare to nowhere is what you are
A white line to an exit sign is what you are
Oh but I saw in you, now I see through
Don't shed a tear for me, my life won't end without you
Long as the night will be, the sun will rise without you
A locked door on a candy store is what you are
A slim chance in tight pants is what you are
All that I loved you for, I want it more
Don't shed a tear for me, my life won't end without you
Long as the night will be, the sun will rise without you
You are giving what I'm not taking
I'm not missing what we ain't making
Oh but I saw in you, now I see through
Don't shed a tear for me, my life won't end without you
Long as the night will be, the sun will rise without you
Don't shed a tear for me, my life won't end without you
Long as the night will be, the sun will rise without you
Don't shed no tears,
I don't need a thing

song performed by by Paul Carrack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red-Tressed Maiden

RED she is in a robe of sable,
Rosy with pictures and tales to tell:
She is a fairy, and yet no fable,
Weaving the dreams that we love so well.
Out in the dark where the night-winds hurry
And dead leaves carpet the silent bush,
She has a charm for minds that worry,
For the worn white face a fresh young blush.
Tell her a story of some love laid in
The grave long since with a maiden white —
She will not taunt you, the Red-Tressed Maiden
Dressed in her mantle of starless night.
With fingers potent as rich wine chosen
From dusty cellars where years lie dead,
She melts the ice in the veins long frozen,
The blood runs chainless, and young and red.
Her ears have hearkened the joyous laughter,
Man-made, maid-lifted through years and years
To frescoed dome and to smoky rafter,
And tears and tears and ceaseless tears.
Old as the world, and some say older,
Is she, and yet she is young and sweet:
She heard the story the Cave-man told her,
When hearts were bolder and ruder their beat.
No tale so trifling but she will listen,
The long day ended, the day's toil done;
Then wheresoever her great eyes glisten
An ancient battle is fought and won.
She is ready to hearken to some chance roamer,
A lyre on his shoulder, a lilt on his tongue,
As she was of old to the blind-eyed Homer
Who sang high strains when the world was young.
On winter nights, when the roads are cheerless
And west winds under a frosty moon,
She paints us Summer in colours peerless
And the broad gold charm of a tropic noon.
On summer evenings, in sylvan places
(The picnic over and stars in the skies),
She heightens the blush on sun-kissed faces
And deepens the dream in dear young eyes.
And who is the Maiden? When Night is about you,
Pile high dry leaves and dead wood, and so
Make a light for the darkness within and without you . . .
And now do you see her — and now do you know?

poem by Roderic Quinn
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We Need You

(deke richards)
As I glance across the table
Your empty chair is out of place
Living here just aint that easy now
But there are signs of trying on my face
We need you
Youre the strength
Youre the sunshine of our days
We need you
And the wisdom of your ways
In our dreams, you are here
When we wake you disappear
Without you
Life is one long lonely day
Both the kids, they still love you
You know, they always ask me
When is daddy coming home
Then we talk, and laugh about the good times
Without you, they still feel so alone
We need you
Youre the strength
Youre the sunshine of our day
We need you
And the wisdom of your way
In our dreams
You are here
When we wake you disappear
Without you, life is one long lonely day
Someones knocking at the door of my heart
Telling me what we need
Is a brand new start
That aint true
We need you
In our dreams
You are here
When we wake you disappear
Without you life is one long lonely day
We need you
We need you
In our dreams you are here
When we wake you disappear
Without you life is one long lonely day
We need you
We need you
In our dreams
You are here
When we wake you disappear
Without you life is one long lonely day

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreams Are Best

I just think that dreams are best,
Just to sit and fancy things;
Give your gold no acid test,
Try not how your silver rings;
Fancy women pure and good,
Fancy men upright and true:
Fortressed in your solitude,
Let Life be a dream to you.

For I think that Thought is all;
Truth's a minion of the mind;
Love's ideal comes at call;
As ye seek so shall ye find.
But ye must not seek too far;
Things are never what they seem:
Let a star be just a star,
And a woman -- just a dream.

O you Dreamers, proud and pure,
You have gleaned the sweet of life!
Golden truths that shall endure
Over pain and doubt and strife.
I would rather be a fool
Living in my Paradise,
Than the leader of a school,
Sadly sane and weary wise.

O you Cynics with your sneers,
Fallen brains and hearts of brass,
Tweak me by my foolish ears,
Write me down a simple ass!
I'll believe the real "you"
Is the "you" without a taint;
I'll believe each woman too,
But a slightly damaged saint.

Yes, I'll smoke my cigarette,
Vestured in my garb of dreams,
And I'll borrow no regret;
All is gold that golden gleams.
So I'll charm my solitude
With the faith that Life is blest,
Brave and noble, bright and good, . . .
Oh, I think that dreams are best!

poem by Robert William Service
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Long Way Around

You say what you say
And you pray that one day
Youll be seen between the shadows
Now thats a waist of your pain
Living your life like a saint
When it dont...no
It dont even matter
Even saints make their mistakes
Letting their dreams fall and break
All it feels like
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
Now I want you to see
How good life can be
You can turn around
And better your life
With the good times found
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around
Im not afraid of pride
When its for the right side
Dont betray what I believe in
Stand where you want to stand
And Ill believe when I can
cause Im telling you now
I been where youre living in
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around
Will tomorrow keep its promise
No one here can say
The past is all behind us
And all we have is today
And all we have is today
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around
People will always take the long way around
Before you know it youll be lost and found
Living in sunshine with the shades pulled down
People will always take the long way around

song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Can Make The Morning

(words & music by j. ramsey)
I just thought I heard a small voice crying
Looked again and saw that it was me
I feel like a little boy denying
That he fears the night cause he cant see
Then a larger thought said stop your crying
Dont be scared to search cause you may find
Fate holds out a candle for your footsteps
Time rolls back the shadows of your mind
Its a long, long lonely night
You can make the morning if you try
Its a long, long lonely night
Oh, we can make the morning if we try
Girl, we can make the morning you and i
Together, together, together
Loneliness is darkness first companion
Spend the night alone and faith may bend
Share it all and see how fear starts fading
Chase away the shadows with a friend
Dawns elusive light is just beginning
Now the day can push away the night
Dreams can make the sun feel much brighter
Hope creates a foothold for the light
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Girl, we can make the morning you and i, oh
Together
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unsaintly

Two saints on a long journey
Towards some unknown destiny
On their way met a pretty houri
At the riverside of Kaveri
She prayed them humbly
“Oh! Hermits holy! Can you take me
To the other side of Kaveri”
The younger saint said with fury
“Don’t you see oh lady?
We are saints! Don’t touch thy body!
But the older saint said kindly
“Oh! Young lady
Climb my shoulders! I’ll carry”
Crossed the river all the three
The girl left the company
Saints resumed their odyssey

After a long walk silently
Burst out the young saint wildly
“You have done something unsaintly
How could you carry that lady? ”
The older saint smiled and said coolly
“I left her at the banks of Kaveri
Do you still carry her in mind heavily? ”

poem by Sathya Narayana
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Long, Long Way To Go

You held my hand and then you slipped away
And I may never see your face again
So tell me how do to fill the emptiness inside
Without love, what is life?
And anyone who knew us both can see
We always were the better part of me
I never wanted to be this free
All this pain, does it go away?
Then every time I turn around
And youre nowhere to be found
I know I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to you
Oh, I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to all I ever knew
To you, to you
From memory, there is no hiding place
Turn on the tv and I see you there
In every crowd theres always someone with your face
Everywhere, trying not to care
Then every time I turn around
And youre nowhere to be found
I know I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to you
Oh, I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to all I ever knew
To you, I wish you everythin
And all the best that life can bring
I only hope you think of me sometimes, oh
And even though I feel the pain
I know that I will love again
The time will come, oh, and Ill move on
I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to you
Oh, I got a long, long way to go, got a long way to go
Before I can say goodbye, before I say goodbye
To all I ever knew, to all I ever knew
I got a long, I got a long, long way to go, long way to go
Before I can say, before I say, goodbye to you
Say goodbye, say goodbye
Oh, I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to all I ever knew
Girl, I wish you the best I know, oh and all of the rest, to you
I got a long, long way to go
Before I can say goodbye to you

song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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