The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXVII
THE SAME CONTINUED
Your youth flowed on, a river chaste and fair,
Till thirty years were written to your name.
A wife, a mother, these the titles were
Which conquered for you the world's fairest fame.
In all things you were wise but in this one,
That of your wisdom you yourself did doubt.
Youth spent like age, no joy beneath the sun.
Your glass of beauty vainly running out.
Then suddenly again, ere well you knew,
Love looked upon you tenderly, yet sad:
``Are these wise follies, then, enough for you?''
He said;--``Love's wisdom were itself less mad.''
And you: ``What wouldst thou of me?'' ``My bare due,
In token of what joys may yet be had.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Upon A Venerable Rival
Full thirty frosts since thou wert young
Have chilled the withered grove,
Thou wretch! and hast thou lived so long,
Nor yet forgot to love?
Ye sages! spite of your pretences
To wisdom, you must own
Your folly frequently commences
When you acknowledge none.
Not that I deem it weak to love,
Or folly to admire;
But ah! the pangs we lovers prove
Far other years require.
Unheeded on the youthful brow
The beams of Phoebus play;
But unsupported age stoops low
Beneath the sultry ray.
For once, then, if untutored youth,
Youth unapproved by years,
May chance to deviate into truth,
When your experience errs;
For once attempt not to despise
What I esteem a rule:
Who early loves, though young, is wise,--
Who old, though gray, a fool.
poem by William Cowper
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True Enjoyment
VAINLY wouldst thou, to gain a heart,
Heap up a maiden's lap with gold;
The joys of love thou must impart,
Wouldst thou e'er see those joys unfold.
The voices of the throng gold buys,
No single heart 'twill win for thee;
Wouldst thou a maiden make thy prize,
Thyself alone the bribe must be.
If by no sacred tie thou'rt bound,
Oh youth, thou must thyself restrain!
Well may true liberty be found,
Tho' man may seem to wear a chain.
Let one alone inflame thee e'er,
And if her heart with love o'erflows,
Let tenderness unite you there,
If duty's self no fetter knows.
First feel, oh youth! A girl then find
Worthy thy choice,--let her choose thee,
In body fair, and fair in mind,
And then thou wilt be blessed, like me.
I who have made this art mine own,
A girl have chosen such as this
The blessing of the priest alone
Is wanting to complete our bliss.
Nought but my rapture is her guide,
Only for me she cares to please,--
Ne'er wanton save when by my side,
And modest when the world she sees;
That time our glow may never chill,
She yields no right through frailty;
Her favour is a favour still,
And I must ever grateful be.
Yet I'm content, and full of joy,
If she'll but grant her smile so sweet,
Or if at table she'll employ,
To pillow hers, her lover's feet,
Give me the apple that she bit,
The glass from which she drank, bestow,
And when my kiss so orders it,
Her bosom, veil'd till then, will show.
And when she wills of love to speak,
In fond and silent hours of bliss,
Words from her mouth are all I seek,
Nought else I crave,--not e'en a kiss.
With what a soul her mind is fraught,
Wreath'd round with charms unceasingly!
She's perfect,--and she fails in nought
Save in her deigning to love me.
My rev'rence throws me at her feet,
My longing throws me on her breast;
This, youth, is rapture true and sweet,
Be wise, thus seeking to be blest.
When death shall take thee from her side,
To join the angelic choir above,
In heaven's bright mansions to abide,--
No diff'rence at the change thoult prove.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Chinese Wisdom
In crisis, wisdom growth,
And gained.
Intelligence endowed,
But wisdom is learned.
Wise men listen more,
Talk no nonsense.
Wise men may be learned
But learned men may not be wise.
A silent fool can pass for a wise man.
Silence is golden & wise,
Silence is the trusted friend of wisdom.
It is easy to blame our memory
when our judgment is at fault.
It takes a tree ten years to mature;
It takes a man one hundred years to form.
We grow old fast,
We grow wise slowly.
Youth can look only forward,
but age can also look backward.
Maturity and wisdom
take a lifetime to achieve.
Achieving maturity does not
Grow with age.
Wisdom grows when
Ones learned to avoid the wrongs.
Stand for the rights.
Biggest flaw of ones
Has a lot of flaws and
Not correcting them,
Not avoiding them.
Life is a learning journey
To discover who we are,
Learning as if life is
one continuous lesson.
Wisdom is attained by learning
when to hold one’s tongue.
Discretion is the trusted friend of wisdom.
A wise head must possess a closed mouth.
Compiled & adapted by Lawrence Hiung
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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If all things are in common among friends, the most precious is Wisdom. What can Juno give which thou canst not receive from Wisdom? What mayest thou admire in Venus which thou mayest not also contemplate in Wisdom? Her beauty is not small, for the lord of all things taketh delight in her. Her I have loved and diligently sought from my youth up.
quote by Giordano Bruno
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXV
THE SAME CONTINUED
And then fate strikes us. First our joys decay.
Youth, with its pleasures, is a tale soon told.
We grow a little poorer day by day.
Old friendships falter. Loves grow strangely cold.
In vain we shift our hearts to a new hold
And barter joy for joy, the less for less.
We doubt our strength, our wisdom, and our gold.
We stand alone, as in a wilderness
Of doubts and terrors. Then, if we be wise,
We make our terms with fate and, while we may,
Sell our life's last sad remnant for a hope.
And it is wisdom thus to close our eyes.
But for the foolish, those who cannot pray,
What else remains of their dark horoscope
But a tall tree and courage and a rope?
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The One White Hair
THE WISEST of the wise
Listen to pretty lies
And love to hear them told;
Doubt not that Solomon
Listen’d to many a one,—
Some in his youth, and more when he grew old.
I never was among
The choir of Wisdom’s song,
But pretty lies lov’d I
As much as any king,
When youth was on the wing,
And (must it then be told?) when youth had quite gone by.
Alas! and I have not
The pleasant hour forgot
When one pert lady said,
“O Walter! I am quite
Bewilder’d with affright!
I see (sit quiet now) a white hair on your head!”
Another more benign
Snipp’d it away from mine,
And in her own dark hair
Pretended it was found…
She leap’d, and twirl’d it round…
Fair as she was, she never was so fair!
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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The Very Wise Woman
The very wise woman she said to her son
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love anyone
With what she said I for one cannot disagree
She does seem a very wise person to me
The truth in her words I have come to realize
For one in her early thirties she does seem so wise
She said to her son your love of self to love of others expand
Of how love works she is one who does understand
Wisdom does not have an age to it as we have been told
A marvellous insight from a young mother to her nine year old
And since self love is a sibling of compassion and ruth
Her words to her son in them have the beauty of truth
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love anyone
The very wise woman she said to her son.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Truth Will Give You Love
Love is wise, but how wise?
Real love can live without the magic of sex?
Love is the wisdom of two people
Sex is the lust of many
A woman the gift...a wise person
Understands less sex.
Women are not always willing to be on there back
A relationship is not a running track
But a place to be laid and admired from the sack.
A man as I was told... is bold for the female hole
Wisdom did him no good...
Born for sex from the hood...
Ride'em, feed'em, and Puck'em
That is how it was told
But the wisdom of the gift
Put into man a shift...
Now most men see love with both eyes and hope
Instead of with one eye and the hole as dope.
The gift is a shadow of a man's smile..
A woman's love is the wisdom we both learn to live and grow with
Now that most men understand that woman is woman
And man is man...Let us try to do the best we can....
Less sex on demand.
whisperkwane
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Two Kinds of Wisdom
Words of wisdom can indeed, speak to the heart’s most inner need,
But you must be aware my friend, where words take you in the end.
For earthly wisdom can mislead, the heart seeking an earthly need.
While wisdom sent from up above, guides you in God’s perfect love.
Wisdom comes from many schools, some are wise, some are fools,
Even teachings that sound wise, could be packaged in eternal lies.
Earthly wisdom tells you friend, don’t be concerned about your end,
Just live your life for number one, fill each day with pleasure and fun.
Godly wisdom fills you with love, while keeping your mind up above,
God helps you each day to live, knowing that you have more to give.
Worldly wisdom says fill your life, with things that cause much strife.
It tells you to grab the biggest toy, but in the end you’ll have no joy.
Godly wisdom through sacrifice, prepares you for your Eternal Life.
With this wisdom men shall see, Jesus Christ as they enter Eternity.
In the end all worldly wisdom, to the Truth of God it shall succumb.
When men try embracing The Son, He will say what’s done is done.
All the worldly wisdom down here, has no room for The Lord, I fear,
With the wisdom they think wise, the Lord we love, they just despise.
The same Lord who we hold dear, has let us know His return is near,
And Godly wisdom fixes our eyes, upon Christ without any comprise.
A Poem to Honor St. Valentine
If youth could age's wisdom ken,
& age could know youth's fire again
or age could Old Time's hands turn back
T'would then be youth with time to spend
& wisdom's strengths on which to depend.
This said, t'is never just white or black
For youth doth all discretion lack
& age tho' willing & desirous to play
To youth's vitality must passion give way
& such a conflict therein lies
for age is by youth most oft despised
& youth by age oft seen to whine,
“please, won't you be my valentine?”
poem by Hugh Cobb (12 February 2006)
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Wisely Love The Wise
The wise love wisely.
It’s said, that when the truly wise
surface from their sleep,
they see nought but heavenly blue
in which the world then gently, slowly shapes itself
as if this whole created world were but
a single act of love; and within that love,
their love is wisdom, knowledge, law;
as they emerge from their wise sleep,
this is what they are.
The wise love wisely; when they look at you,
(you who maybe meet them for
the first time; offer them perhaps
a flower from too hot a hand,
a fruit, a handkerchief…
or meet them by some heavenly accident,
they, like a comet through your life)
and their first so wise glance at you
sees nought but your perfection;
they do not doubt that you are they,
that they are you; and while they’re here
you share all this with them;
you’ve met yourself; for this
is what you are..
The wise are careful lovers
for love is care, and care is charity;
and yet the wise are widest, wildest,
most romantic lovers:
they throw, they strew their love
on all and every one and thing without a further thought,
offering simply, lawful freedom, happiness;
bidding love well as it flies away,
wishing you themself;
wishing you, yourself;
The wise love wisely;
for they know the secret law of love:
the more it’s given, the more there is
to give.
The wise love wisely;
so, they wear a wise disguise;
they look like you and me; because
we are that same disguise.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Paris and the Golden Apple
The best of possessions
I am holding in my hand-
The Golden Apple on which is written-
'For the most fairest'.
Strange is the way Fate works,
And I, a mortal, is chosen to select
Who among Hera, Athene and Venus
is the most fairest!
Hera said-
'Power is the ultimate goal of life,
every head must bow down before power-
with love or with fear-
The world stands before you trembling,
And you will govern it with iron rod.
Give me the apple and see
what I have to offer.'
Athene Said -
Knowledge is Power, and
Power is but the shadow of Wisdom-
always following like a faithful servent;
I will bless you with the light of wisdom
And elighten your soul from within
So that you can judge the past, present and future.
Venus smiled and said -
What drink can quench the thirst of the soul?
And can remove the hundred fevers of heart?
Can Wisdom or Power do this?
no, they don't.
Only Beauty can touch the soul softly
and can revive its vitality.
Then give me the apple and in return
Take the best of gifts the world can offer-
The most beautiful woman as your wife.
What a real dellima I am in!
Which on to chose, which one to avoid-
between Power, Wisdom and Beauty?
Power is a weapon,
But, Wisdom is the mind's eye,
Yet Beauty is the only pleasure
of the eye and soul.
So, Beauty I prefer to Power and Wisdom;
I will offer the apple to Venus
and will have the most beautiful woman as my wife.
Did Paris make a mistake
In chosing Beauty over Power and Wisdom?
Well, History holds proof of this-
Look at the burning Troy
and take lesson therefrom;
Let not one more Troy burn,
Let not one more Paris is born.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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Song XVIII. - Imitated from the French
Yes, these are the scenes where with Iris I stray'd,
But short was her sway for so lovely a maid!
In the bloom of her youth to a cloister she run,
In the bloom of her graces too fair for a nun!
Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must prove,
So fatal to beauty, so killing to love!
Yes, these are the meadows, the shrubs, and the plains,
Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains;
How many soft moments I spent in this grove!
How fair was my nymph! and how fervent my love!
Be still though, my Heart! thine emotion give o'er;
Remember, the season of love is no more.
With her how I stray'd amid fountains and bowers
Or loiter'd behind, and collected the flowers!
Then breathless with ardour my fair one pursued,
And to think with what kindness my garland she view'd!
But be still, my fond Heart! this emotion give o'er;
Fain wouldst thou forget thou must love her no more.
poem by William Shenstone
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Make hay while wind flows
Men were at me, around me and about me,
Each to love me, serve me and have me.
A nightmare to all was my stunning beauty,
A sweetheart to all but myself without a sweet heart,
Maddening all men but not being of mad of anyone,
Their love in rampage, me to them a mirage,
I lived out my youth, with no love invested.
The youth is gone; the heart is a stone.
I am an orphan, all men having gone.
They got wisdom: a beauty is not worth keeping.
I got wisdom: a stone heart is not worth developing.
17.03.2001, Plmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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From Love to Friendship
If you would have me love once more,
The blissful age of love restore;
From wine's free joys, and lovers' cares,
Relentless time, who no man spares,
Urges me quickly to retire,
And no more to such bliss aspire.
From such austerity exact,
Let's, if we can, some good extract;
Whose way of thinking with this age
Suits not, can ne'er be deemed a sage.
Let sprightly youth its follies gay,
Its follies amiable display;
Life to two moments is confined,
Let one to wisdom be consigned.
You sweet delusions of my mind,
Still to my ruling passion kind,
Which always brought a sure relief
To life's accurst companion, grief.
Will you forever from me fly,
And must I joyless, friendless die?
No mortal e'er resigns his breath
I see, without a double death;
Who loves, and is beloved no more,
His hapless fate may well deplore;
Life's loss may easily be borne,
Of love bereft man is forlorn.
'Twas thus those pleasures I lamented,
Which I so oft in youth repented;
My soul replete with soft desire,
Vainly regretted youthful fire.
But friendship then, celestial maid,
From heaven descended to my aid;
Less lively than the amorous flame,
Although her tenderness the same.
The charms of friendship I admired,
My soul was with new beauty fired;
I then made one in friendship's train,
But destitute of love, complain.
The Seers!
A DAY IS BORN FOR THE WISE!
SEE YE THE FUTURE!
IT HOLDS WISDOM FOR THE WISE!
THEY THAT SEE THE PRESENT ARE BUT LOOKERS!
THEY THAT SEE THE FUTURE ARE BUT VISIERS!
AND THEY THAT SEE ETERNITY ARE GRAND VISIERS!
I HAVE SEEN INFINITY AND BEYOND!
AND LO! THE WISDOM OF THE WISE IS BECOME FOOLISHNESS!
AND THE WISDOM OF THEIR ASTROLOGERS ARE BECOME INSANITY!
IF THEY BE WISE, WHY SOWETH THEY' ETERNAL TROUBLES AS SEED FOR THEIR FUTURE CHILDREN?
FOR LO, LIKE A SEA IS THE ENEMIES THAT HAS FALLEN UPON THE POWERS THAT BE TODAY!
TRUELY, I SAW MYSELF IN THAT SEA!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVIII
COLD COMFORT
There is no comfort underneath the sun.
Youth turns to age; riches are quickly spent;
Pride breeds us pain, our pleasures punishment.
The very courage which we count upon
A single night of fever shall break down,
And love is slain by fear. Death last of all
Spreads out his nets and watches for our fall.
There is no comfort underneath the sun!
--When thou art old, O man, if thou wert proud
Be humble; pride will here avail thee not.
There is no courage which can conquer death.
Forget that thou wert wise. Nay, keep thy breath
For prayer, that so thy wisdom be forgot
And thou perhaps get pity of thy God.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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0006 Saraswati
The name means
wisdom. Perhaps
we should leave it there. For
the human mind loves
to bring the heavenly
down to earth; then bury it:
maybe not wisdom, did they say –
who worships wisdom in these foolish days?
Maybe a goddess then?
We’ll name our greatest river
after her; that will help men
to remember wisdom
which flows from heaven
to the tops of the unreachable snowed
Himalayas, flows down and nourishes
the earth that nourishes the seeds
that yield the plants
that bring life to men
who meet together on her banks
and build a whole Harappan
civilisation – so, look –
she’s wisdom, and a goddess, and river bringing life itself
and so she’s in the heart
of every Indian.
so far, so good; but then –
was it anger in the heavens,
that made the lovely goddess
lift her veil across her face?
conceal her wisdom? Was it
that men forgot to honour her?
Or was it some tectonic plate, slightly tipping,
that turned the fertile Sindh and Rajasthan
into deserts? And the river Saraswati
first became not a river, but
a line of pools, needing the yearly
tribute from the rains of mercy,
brought by men’s sacrifice? And then,
finally disappeared?
and so the goddess of wisdom
who is eternal wisdom
and a river, is now
the goddess of the wisdom that’s
no longer seen so gracefully flowing there; invisible.
Maybe this purdah
is more dignified; we know she’s there,
if we honour her enough
and need her.
The story is not over, though:
the satellites have photographed
her ghost; a veiled figure seen
slipping out in the cool half-light of dawn,
waterpot on shoulder; she knows
that deep underground, her wise water
waits in stone caverns beneath the earth
these 3,500 years; to be drawn on
by wise engineers, to drink again
with awe, with gratitude, or thoughtless…
Wisdom waits,
living a life so deep in poetry,
in metaphor,
wisdom, goddess, water. How
she must love to live
lightly veiled in silken speech,
quietly in the heart, like
metaphor itself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Next Thirty Years
(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gibbons
'Vicarivs Filii Dei'
And of the facts hidden in a name to tell a story;
But wisdom makes the wise smile.
Gibbons, only the wise man really knows what things really mean around us;
And wisdom is right in front of him or her who has understanding.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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