Milton: But in the Wine-presses the Human Grapes Sing not nor Dance
But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
They howl and writhe in shoals of torment, in fierce flames consuming,
In chains of iron and in dungeons circled with ceaseless fires,
In pits and dens and shades of death, in shapes of torment and woe:
The plates and screws and racks and saws and cords and fires and cisterns
The cruel joys of Luvah's Daughters, lacerating with knives
And whips their victims, and the deadly sport of Luvah's Sons.
They dance around the dying and they drink the howl and groan,
They catch the shrieks in cups of gold, they hand them to one another:
These are the sports of love, and these the sweet delights of amorous play,
Tears of the grape, the death sweat of the cluster, the last sigh
Of the mild youth who listens to the luring songs of Luvah.
poem by William Blake
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Related quotes
But in the Wine-presses the Human Grapes Sing not nor Dance
But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
They howl and writhe in shoals of torment, in fierce flames consuming,
In chains of iron and in dungeons circled with ceaseless fires,
In pits and dens and shades of death, in shapes of torment and woe:
The plates and screws and racks and saws and cords and fires and cisterns
The cruel joys of Luvah's Daughters, lacerating with knives
And whips their victims, and the deadly sport of Luvah's Sons.
They dance around the dying and they drink the howl and groan,
They catch the shrieks in cups of gold, they hand them to one another:
These are the sports of love, and these the sweet delights of amorous play,
Tears of the grape, the death sweat of the cluster, the last sigh
Of the mild youth who listens to the luring songs of Luvah.----
poem by William Blake
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Como Estais Amigos
(gers, bayley)
Como esta amigo
For the death of those we dont go
Shall we kneel and say a prayer
They will never know we care
Shall we keep the fires burning
Shall we keep the flames alight
Should we try to remember
What is wrong and what is right
No more tears, no more tears
If we live for a hundred years
Amigos no more tears
And if we do forget them
And the sacrifice they made
Will the wickedness and sadness
Come to visit us again
Shall we dance the dance in sunlight
Shall we drink the wine of peace
Shall our tears be of joy
Shall we keep at bay the beast
Inside the scream is silent
Inside it must remain
No victory and no vanquished
Only horror, only pain
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet To Death
TARRY a while, O Death, I cannot die
While yet my sweet life burgeons with its spring;
Fair is my youth, and rich the echoing boughs
Where dhadikulas sing.
Tarry a while, O Death, I cannot die
With all my blossoming hopes unharvested,
My joys ungarnered, all my songs unsung,
And all my tears unshed.
Tarry a while, till I am satisfied
Of love and grief, of earth and altering sky;
Till all my human hungers are fulfilled,
O Death, I cannot die!
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Amber Glow
Amber Glow
Red and yellow painted leaves
hang idly within the trees
They break and sail along the breeze
As fires of Autumn's time
They dance and surf upon the ground
Overlap each other with ruffling sound
A setting I am glad I found
As fires of Autumn's time
Like fires of the Autumn season
they leap and dance without a reason
A factor of Autumns many seasons
As fires of Autumn's time'
The grey clouds break, the sun appears
The dancing leaves appear to sere
These flames its kept for many years
As fires of Autumn's time
poem by Wesley Mincin
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Dance with Death
Consecrated cold earth
There is no dignity
Sworn to die from birth
Here to lie for eternity
So is there glory in death
Never again to feel warm
Or see the light of day
Is death the prize for life
I’ve got the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I saved his life
To put him in the ground
Such a high price
Can’t break the chains, I’m bound
I have a fire inside me
Feels like I’m from hell
What else could it be
Death has me in its spell
I have to say good bye
It would be much better
But I keep seeing his eyes
I know I’ll see them forever
I’ve gotta let him go
I need to end the pain
But I don’t know how
Seems I’m caught in this game
I have the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I’m in that dance
The waltz of endings
The horrid trance
Of new beginnings
I’ve got a dance with death
Swing to his song
Take your last breath
It won’t be long
You’ve gotta move to the beat
Dance with death
Play his song for me
Dance with death
poem by Haley Revell
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Forbidden Fruit
There's a game you wanna play
There's a risk you would like to take
But words can't change what you feel inside
There'll be no going back from here
I'm scared it'll lead to tears
Patience, boy, and I will decide
If your kiss is sweet enough
If I wanna feel your touch
You should know I can read your mind
If the deal is worth the pain
If you just won't die of shame
I am tempted to try
If you taste this fruit forbidden to eat
You can drink this wine from a love so deep
I dance for you
Let you come within
If you swear to me that it ain't no sin
There's a world you wanna know
There's a place you wanna go
Take your time and love will delight
There're wonders everywhere
Their mysteries to share
Be gentle, boy, and it will be alright
If you taste this fruit forbidden to eat
You can drink this wine from a love so deep
I dance for you
Let you come within
If you swear to me that it ain't no sin
If you taste this fruit forbidden to eat
You can drink this wine from a love so deep
I dance for you
Let you come within
If you swear to me that it ain't no sin
You wanna taste it
Oh, if you swear to me
If you taste this fruit forbidden to eat
You can drink this wine from a love so deep
Love so deep
I dance for you
Let you come within
If you swear to me that it ain't no sin
If you taste this fruit forbidden to eat
You can drink this wine from a love so deep
Love so deep
I dance for you
Let you come within
If you swear to me that it ain't no sin
Wanna taste it
Love so deep
I wanna dance for you
I wanna taste it
I wanna taste it
I wanna taste it
I wanna taste it
I wanna taste it
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songs from The Beggar’s Opera: Air IV-Cotillion
Act II, Scene iv, Air IV—Cotillion
Youth’s the season made for joys,
Love is then our duty:
She alone who that employs,
Well deserves her beauty.
Let’s be gay
While we may,
Beauty’s a flower despised in decay.
Chorus. Youth’s the season, etc.
Let us drink and sport to-day,
Ours is not to-morrow:
Love with youth flies swift away,
Age is naught but sorrow.
Dance and sing,
Time’s on the wing,
Life never knows the return the spring.
Chorus. Let us drink, etc.
A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Madman's Song
Oh, let us howl some heavy note,
Some deadly-dogged howl,
Sounding as from the threatening throat
Of beasts and fatal fowl!
As ravens, screech-owls, bulls, and bears,
We'll bell, and bawl our parts,
Till irksome noise have cloyed your ears
And corrosived your hearts.
At last, whenas our quire wants breath,
Our bodies being blest,
We'll sing like swans to welcome death,
And die in love and rest.
poem by John Webster
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A New Footnote To Howl
Howl for the dollar suckers, the shake amarni makers
Howl for the rolex souls with their calls to Frankfurt
Howl for the poets who quote in Italian who don`t know how to laugh
Howl for the ice children waiting for buses
Howl for the mobiles with cheap words full of soap
Howl for sons who drive to funerals in cabrios
Howl for the droners who giggle when killing
Howl for moons falling into beer-sodden parks
Howl for kid angels sorting junk in the morning
Howl for gods who wear pictures on their arms
Howl for bombers chasing whores in the sky
Howl for the motherless kissing tins in supermarkets
Howl for the acid faced brides of a lost country
Howl for the pissers, the quick fixers and the holy drinkers
praying on pavements.
Holy occupy holy resistance holy lennon holy allen holy
ernesto and all the prophets who know that
everybody is truth, let them be blessed for
the hard days to come. moving.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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Snow wolves
I can hear the wolves
Howl in the distance
The howl is suddenly
Dampened by the falling snow
In a clearing
I see the wolves howl
Perched on the slanted rock
They cry to the moon
The moon cries back
It cries with agony
It cries because of death
Death witnessed beneath it's glow
The wolves turn and howl
The snow doesn't let up
But blows harder
Through blind panic
i run
I hear the wolves howl
Only it isn't in the distance
poem by Eric Ripley
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The Fly
Little Fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly.
If I live,
Or if I die.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Experience (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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America, A Prophecy
The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron:
Crown'd with a helmet and dark hair the nameless female stood;
A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
When pestilence is shot from heaven: no other arms she need!
Invulnerable though naked, save where clouds roll round her loins
Their awful folds in the dark air: silent she stood as night;
For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise,
But dumb till that dread day when Orc assay'd his fierce embrace.
'Dark Virgin,' said the hairy youth, 'thy father stern, abhorr'd,
Rivets my tenfold chains while still on high my spirit soars;
Sometimes an Eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a Lion
Stalking upon the mountains, and sometimes a Whale, I lash
The raging fathomless abyss; anon a Serpent folding
Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs
On the Canadian wilds I fold; feeble my spirit folds,
For chain'd beneath I rend these caverns: when thou bringest food
I howl my joy, and my red eyes seek to behold thy face--
In vain! these clouds roll to and fro, and hide thee from my sight.'
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
The hairy shoulders rend the links; free are the wrists of fire;
Round the terrific loins he seiz'd the panting, struggling womb;
It joy'd: she put aside her clouds and smiled her first-born smile,
As when a black cloud shews its lightnings to the silent deep.
Soon as she saw the terrible boy, then burst the virgin cry:
'I know thee, I have found thee, and I will not let thee go:
Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa,
And thou art fall'n to give me life in regions of dark death.
On my American plains I feel the struggling afflictions
Endur'd by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep.
I see a Serpent in Canada who courts me to his love,
In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru;
I see a Whale in the south-sea, drinking my soul away.
O what limb-rending pains I feel! thy fire and my frost
Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by thy lightnings rent.
This is eternal death, and this the torment long foretold.'
poem by William Blake
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Song from Aella
O SING unto my roundelay,
O drop the briny tear with me;
Dance no more at holyday,
Like a running river be:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Black his cryne as the winter night,
White his rode as the summer snow,
Red his face as the morning light,
Cole he lies in the grave below:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Sweet his tongue as the throstle's note,
Quick in dance as thought can be,
Deft his tabor, cudgel stout;
O he lies by the willow-tree!
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Hark! the raven flaps his wing
In the brier'd dell below;
Hark! the death-owl loud doth sing
To the nightmares, as they go:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
See! the white moon shines on high;
Whiter is my true-love's shroud:
Whiter than the morning sky,
Whiter than the evening cloud:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Here upon my true-love's grave
Shall the barren flowers be laid;
Not one holy saint to save
All the coldness of a maid:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
With my hands I'll dent the briers
Round his holy corse to gre:
Ouph and fairy, light your fires,
Here my body still shall be:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Come, with acorn-cup and thorn,
Drain my heartès blood away;
Life and all its good I scorn,
Dance by night, or feast by day:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
poem by Thomas Chatterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dance dance dance
Dance in the moon light with,
All the stars in sight
Dance to the smiles
Dance in the shadows my love
Dance dance dance.
You may think I'm crazy
I'd dance in the moonlight
I'll dance when I want to
Please let me dance
Dance dance dance
Dancer take my hand to your,
Hand
I need to dance
Close your blue eyes,
Hold me in your arms and,
Dance dance dance.
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
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Preludium
The shadowy daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc.
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode;
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron;
Crown'd with a helmet & dark hair the nameless female stood;
A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
When pestilence is shot from heaven; no other arms she need:
Invulnerable tho' naked, save where clouds roll round her loins,
Their awful folds in the dark air; silent she stood as night;
For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise;
But dumb till that dread day when Orc assay'd his fierce embrace.
Dark virgin; said the hairy youth, thy father stern abhorr'd;
Rivets my tenfold chains while still on high my spirit soars;
Sometimes an eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a lion,
Stalking upon the mountains, & sometimes a whale I lash
The raging fathomless abyss, anon a serpent folding
Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs,
On the Canadian wilds I fold, feeble my spirit folds.
For chaind beneath I rend these caverns; when thou bringest food
I howl my joy! and my red eyes seek to behold thy face
In vain! these clouds roll to & fro, & hide thee from my sight.
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
The hairy shoulders rend the links, free are the wrists of fire;
Round the terrific loins he siez'd the panting struggling womb;
It joy'd: she put asider her clouds & smiled her first-born smile;
As when a black cloud shews its light'nings to the silent deep.
Soon as she saw the terrible boy then burst the virgin cry.
I know thee, I have found thee, & I will not let thee go;
Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa;
And thou art fall'n to give me life in regions of dark death.
On my American plains I feel the struggling afflictions
Edur'd by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep:
I see a serpent in Canada, who courts me to his love;
In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru;
I see a Whale in the South-sea, drinking my soul away.
O what limb rendering pains I feel. thy fire & my frost
Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by the ligtnings rent;
This is eternal death; and this the torment long foretold.
poem by William Blake from America a Prophecy (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Howl of the Night
A howl can be herd in the night as the snow falls
A howl can run through and enter the soul of
The wolf who's heart is as pure as the grain
A howl shall show no mercy and shall either hunt you
Or guide you, It will be strong and hard -the howl of the night.
The howl shall come from the spirit of the strongest,
The bravest and the boldest.
It will not be weak, as the wind carries the howl farther
To the Pack, all will awaken and cry with
The howl of the night.
poem by Rebecca Seetahal
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Its time to sing
Its time to sing
and dance in rain,
Its time to go out,
and get steep in rain.
Its time to forget
all the miseries of life,
Time to throw away,
the crutches and wyes
Its time to rejoice,
time to play,
With droplets in hand,
hope in eyes.
Its time to sing
and dance in rain,
Its time to go out,
and get soaked in rain,
Its time to swing,
Time to swill,
With serinette in hand,
sing with cuckoo,
sing with Peahen
Songs of life
Songs of joy.
Its time to sing
and dance in rain,
Its time to go out,
and flirt in rain,
Its time to meet
Time to greet
Its time to love,
Time to hug,
With hum on lips
and mistletoe in hand,
Kiss the life
embrace the love.
Let's Bomb The Moonlight
so well
the world is diagnosed with terminal cancer
flesh is not human this culture is not freedom
and the world has terminal cancer
i want to live with you
let's bomb the moonlight and dance
this far awake is a joke our love is real
and the world is diagnosed with terminal cancer
i love your lips ...(?)...
armageddon's just another job, it's all on the inside
don't let them tell you love is a lie
love is so real
the best bet's to stay alive
let's go bomb the moonlight
let's take it back
what was ours by right
frame of a picture, the subject's not right
oh people of the world
you have a new boy in town
to share the light with a guillotine
that's realer than all of you
that's love human.
we'll bomb the moonlight and dance
dance
sweet black mother of death
why did you have to take her away from me?
it's stupid all the words fit together
where now is nothing
why did you have to bring us together,
under such dirty circumstance?
i have a molotov
let's bomb the moonlight and dance
dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem For Wei Ba
Often a man's life is such
that he seldom sees his friends,
like the constellations Shen and Shang
which never share the same sky.
If not this evening, then what evening
should we share this lamp light?
How long can our youth and vigor last?
The hair at our temples is already gray.
We inquire about old acquaintances
to find that half are ghosts--
shocked cries betray
the torment of our hearts.
How could I have known
that it would be twenty years
before I again entered
your honored home.
When we parted last
you were yet unmarried;
now your sons and daughters
line up in a smiling row
to greet their father's friend.
They ask whence I have come
but before I can answer all questions
you chase them off
to bring wine and cups.
In the night rain, chives are cut
for the freshly steamed rice
mixed with yellow millet.
Saying how difficult it has been
for us to meet at last,
you pour ten cups in a row!
But even after ten cups
I'm not drunk, being so moved
by your lasting friendship.
Tomorrow we will be separated
by the peaks of mountains,
each of our worldly affairs
lost to the other's sight.