A Man Young And Old: XI. From Oedipus At Colonus
Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span;
Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;
Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.
Even from that delight memory treasures so,
Death, despair, division of families, all entanglements of mankind grow,
As that old wandering beggar and these God-hated children know.
In the long echoing street the laughing dancers throng,
The bride is carried to the bridegroom's chamber through torchlight and tumultuous song;
I celebrate the silent kiss that ends short life or long.
Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say;
Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into the eye of day;
The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
A Man Young And Old
I
First Love
THOUGH nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.
But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.
She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
When the moon sails out.
II
Human Dignity
Like the moon her kindness is,
If kindness I may call
What has no comprehension in't,
But is the same for all
As though my sorrow were a scene
Upon a painted wall.
So like a bit of stone I lie
Under a broken tree.
I could recover if I shrieked
My heart's agony
To passing bird, but I am dumb
From human dignity.
III
The Mermaid
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.
IV
The Death of the Hare
I have pointed out the yelling pack,
The hare leap to the wood,
And when I pass a compliment
Rejoice as lover should
At the drooping of an eye,
At the mantling of the blood.
Then' suddenly my heart is wrung
By her distracted air
And I remember wildness lost
And after, swept from there,
Am set down standing in the wood
At the death of the hare.
V
The Empty Cup
A crazy man that found a cup,
When all but dead of thirst,
Hardly dared to wet his mouth
Imagining, moon-accursed,
That another mouthful
And his beating heart would burst.
October last I found it too
But found it dry as bone,
And for that reason am I crazed
And my sleep is gone.
VI
His Memories
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They'd sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a jackass bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;
The first of all the tribe lay there
And did such pleasure take --
She who had brought great Hector down
And put all Troy to wreck --
That she cried into this ear,
'Strike me if I shriek.'
VII
The Friends of his Youth
Laughter not time destroyed my voice
And put that crack in it,
And when the moon's pot-bellied
I get a laughing fit,
For that old Madge comes down the lane,
A stone upon her breast,
And a cloak wrapped about the stone,
And she can get no rest
With singing hush and hush-a-bye;
She that has been wild
And barren as a breaking wave
Thinks that the stone's a child.
And Peter that had great affairs
And was a pushing man
Shrieks, 'I am King of the Peacocks,'
And perches on a stone;
And then I laugh till tears run down
And the heart thumps at my side,
Remembering that her shriek was love
And that he shrieks from pride.
VIII
Summer and Spring
We sat under an old thorn-tree
And talked away the night,
Told all that had been said or done
Since first we saw the light,
And when we talked of growing up
Knew that we'd halved a soul
And fell the one in t'other's arms
That we might make it whole;
Then peter had a murdering look,
For it seemed that he and she
Had spoken of their childish days
Under that very tree.
O what a bursting out there was,
And what a blossoming,
When we had all the summer-time
And she had all the spring!
IX
The Secrets of the Old
I have old women's sectets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.
Though Margery is stricken dumb
If thrown in Madge's way,
We three make up a solitude;
For none alive to-day
Can know the stories that we know
Or say the things we say:
How such a man pleased women most
Of all that are gone,
How such a pair loved many years
And such a pair but one,
Stories of the bed of straw
Or the bed of down.
X
His Wildness
O bid me mount and sail up there
Amid the cloudy wrack,
For peg and Meg and Paris' love
That had so straight a back,
Are gone away, and some that stay
Have changed their silk for sack.
Were I but there and none to hear
I'd have a peacock cry,
For that is natural to a man
That lives in memory,
Being all alone I'd nurse a stone
And sing it lullaby.
XI
From 'Oedipus at Colonus'
Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span;
Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;
Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.
Even from that delight memory treasures so,
Death, despair, division of families, all entanglements of mankind grow,
As that old wandering beggar and these God-hated children know.
In the long echoing street the laughing dancers throng,
The bride is catried to the bridegroom's chamber
through torchlight and tumultuous song;
I celebrate the silent kiss that ends short life or long.
Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say;
Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have
looked into the eye of day;
The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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So Much Life Longing For More Life
SO MUCH LIFE LONGING FOR MORE LIFE
So much life longing for more life
Wanting to live so much
To feel to experience to know to enjoy to love.
So much life
Others have lived
So much life
I would have lived.
And the life I have lived?
More than I can know or understand
So much of it gone forever.
And all the longing and all the memories
And all the love,
Where is it now?
I have lived so much
And never lived enough
And want to live too much more
And know I will never live enough
And know I have lived so much much more
Than I will ever know again.
Life and more life,
Longing and more longing,
Life- Please God-
Not Death.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Passion
There are leaves that want recorded in one song
Chant that disappeared into a murmur
There were desperate to get carried away by memories
Long memories will not disappear
There's something that goes between the cracks lattice
Air grilles where are the longing
There is a long kiss against death
Death of passion for life
(2012)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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A Dapper Old Fellow
I know this old bloke in his eighties he is such a dapper old man
A batchelor and one without children he nears the end of his life span
Always well dressed and never unhappy with a full head of silver gray hair
As he walks down the street in the morning he whistles some happy old air
He has lived a life of adventure and to distant places he's been
And all of the World's great Cities and Landmarks of note he has seen
Now too old for distant travel but in him the longing does remain
For to travel roads he has not travelled the highways and the byways again
A dapper old fellow in his eighties for years he has lived on his own
And the good and not so good times in his life he has seen and has known
But time it is running out on him and the clock on his life it ticks on
And the wanderlust it is still in him though his better days are long over and gone
Yet a happier or nicer person one hardly could wish for to meet
And he whistles with the joy of living as he slowly walks down the street.
poem by Francis Duggan
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War
Hatred is such a powerful emotion,
Three letters that create such commotion.
War is a word that bares no goals,
It shall ravage land and blacken souls...
Warriors chant their blood thirsty song,
Each side believing they're not wrong.
Instead of life they only breed death,
While innocence breathe's it's last breath...
Hero's are born yet soon they die,
Families despair and children cry.
For war is a beast that knows no rules,
It's a game that is only played by fools...
Politicians have never witnessed the blood,
Or the men that are lost in the mud.
A game of chess they seem to play,
With the life's of men in a cavalier way...
The choice is simple for us to make,
To deny the demon for mankind's sake.
For as long as both shall hold a breath,
Then war shall deal us only death...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Life of My Death
My only difference
Between life and afterlife
is my death
My only triumph
upon the whole universe
is my death
My only freedom
of thoughts from mind
is my death
My only distinction
from the angels and devils
is my death
My only decision
after all my decisions
is my death
But death is short-lived
and the thing that pleases me
is my death
Life always presents span
and the shortest spanned
is my death
I can grasp everything
but the thing out of my bounds
is my death...
08-03-2008
poem by Usman Hanif
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Life and Death, How Ironic
Life, it described my Mother
Life, she was the image
Life, she was healthy
Life, she loved every day
Life, you saw it in her eyes
Life, you heard it in her voice
Life, how ironic it could be
Death, the impossible
Death, too somber a thought for her
Death, she would live a long, long time before it would confront her
Death, sickness maybe, but there is always a cure
Death, not even a thought in the doctor’s mind
Death, it now replaced life
Life and death, my mother passed away with a look of peace on her face
She died knowing that she lived every moment to the fullest.
poem by Janice Karp
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Brian And Robert
If you're just staring at your walls
observing echoing footfalls
from tenants wandering distant halls
then this one is for you
if children playing all around
to you is noise not pleasant sound
and you'd be lost on the playground
then this one is for you
all alone the life you lead
a silent diner where you feed
bow your head pretend to read
this one is for you
slip past strangers in the street
there's no one that you care to meet
longing for your TV seat
this one is for you
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grief and Loss
Words fall short
To express a sense of loss.
It can only be felt
In the emptiness it left.
In the longing of your heart,
In some chamber of your soul,
For a dear one gone
In a flash, we are forever apart.
In the silent tears
That flow down your cheeks,
Soaking the pillow case
As you lie curled up in bed.
In the half smile
That never reaches your eyes,
The void that fills you
And makes you wonder why are you alive.
With time the ache becomes dull,
And from time to time
You find yourself awake
Tossing, turning going down
The memory lane,
Some sweet some full of pain.
You are never whole,
As long as there is a longing
In your soul.
In time you realise
You have to let go,
And make peace
And deal with grief.
Finally when it does,
You grow wise
Compassionate and loving,
And gain a new insight
Into life that is a mystery.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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When I'm Dead And Gone
When I'm dead and gone
At my funeral don't play another sad song
I wanna see tears of joy not of sorrow
Remember this day for it will be gone tomorrow
I want people to celebrate my death day
The same way they celebrated my birthday
Remember the good things I've done in my life, and forget the bad
Remember our love, cause at times that's all we had
When I'm dead and gone, who would really miss me?
I would hope that the memory of me make people happy
I'd like to say I'm sorry to all those I've done wrong
And thanks to all who showed me love my whole life long
I have to get these feelings out before I'm dead and gone
Same may wonder why I'm doing this poem
Maybe I feel like my life is reaching its final storm
I rather say this right now right here
Cause later I may not be able to say nothing I fear
No I'm not ready to meet death.
But I rather for you to know now,
Then when I'm dead and gone to be thinking something else.
poem by Daniel Chapman
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Brian & Robert
If youre just staring at your walls
Observing echoing footfalls
From tenants wandering distant halls
Then this one is for you
If children playing all around
To you is noise not pleasant sound
And youd be lost on the playground
Then this one is for you
All alone the life you lead
A silent diner where you feed
Bow your head pretend to read
This one is for you
Slip past strangers in the street
Theres no one that you care to meet
Longing for your tv seat
This one is for you
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Longing Is The Heart Of The Poem
THE LONGING IS THE HEART OF THE POEM
The longing is the heart of the poem
The longing for so much
Which will never be again-
The longing to be young again
To love again
In a true and deep way-
The longing for all the times and people
Who are not
And never will be again-
The longing which tells me again and again
How much we lose in merely living
How deep and rich life is
In time and ways and people
Beyond our ever remembering and recollecting fully-
The longing is for so much that is gone
For so much that will never be again-
Life itself is a longing for life itself
And life goes beyond itself in so many ways-
All the longing all my longing
Will never bring it back
even that
which is always here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To H.a.b. On My Forty-seventh Birthday
WHEN one is forty years and seven,
Is seven and forty sad years old,
He looks not onward for his Heaven,
The future is too blank and cold,
Its pale flowers smell of graveyard mould;
He looks back to his lifeful past;
If age is silver, youth is gold:-
Could youth but last, could youth but last!
He turns back toward his youthful past
A-throb with life and love and hope,
Whose long-dead joys in memory last,
Whose shining days had ample scope;
He turns and lingers on the slope
Whose dusk leads down to sightless death:-
The sun once crowned that darkening cope,
And song once thrilled this weary breath.
Ali, he plods wearily to death,
Adown the gloaming into night,
But other lives breathe joyous breath
In morning's boundless golden light;
Their feet are swift, their eyes are bright,
Their hearts beat rhythms of hope and love,
Their being is a pure delight
In earth below and heaven above.
And you have hope and joy and love,
And you have youth's abounding life,
Whose crystal currents flow above
The stones and sands of care and strife.
May all your years with joys be rifc,
May you grow calmly to your prime,
A maiden sweet, a cherished wife,
A happy mother in due time.
All good you wish me, past my prime,
I wish with better hope to you,
And richer blessings than old Time
And Fate or Fortune found my due:
For you are kind and good and true,
And so when you are forty-seven
May spouse and children in your view
Make Home the happiest life-long Heaven.
poem by James Thomson
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Mother Country
Oh what is that country
And where can it be,
Not mine own country,
But dearer far to me?
Yet mine own country,
If I one day may see
Its spices and cedars,
Its gold and ivory.
As I lie dreaming
It rises, that land:
There rises before me
Its green golden strand,
With its bowing cedars
And its shining sand;
It sparkles and flashes
Like a shaken brand.
Do angels lean nearer
While I lie and long?
I see their soft plumage
And catch their windy song,
Like the rise of a high tide
Sweeping full and strong;
I mark the outskirts
Of their reverend throng.
Oh what is a king here,
Or what is a boor?
Here all starve together,
All dwarfed and poor;
Here Death's hand knocketh
At door after door,
He thins the dancers
From the festal floor.
Oh what is a handmaid,
Or what is a queen?
All must lie down together
Where the turf is green,
The foulest face hidden,
The fairest not seen;
Gone as if never,
They had breathed or been.
Gone from sweet sunshine
Underneath the sod,
Turned from warm flesh and blood
To senseless clod,
Gone as if never
They had toiled or trod,
Gone out of sight of all
Except our God.
Shut into silence
From the accustomed song,
Shut into solitude
From all earth's throng,
Run down tho' swift of foot,
Thrust down tho' strong;
Life made an end of
Seemed it short or long.
Life made an end of,
Life but just begun,
Life finished yesterday,
Its last sand run;
Life new-born with the morrow,
Fresh as the sun:
While done is done for ever;
Undone, undone.
And if that life is life,
This is but a breath,
The passage of a dream
And the shadow of death;
But a vain shadow
If one considereth;
Vanity of vanities,
As the Preacher saith.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Life Is But A Stage
Like a fly drawn to a web... As I am to you,
The scent of you fills me with hope only to be dashed,
Trapped once more in your deceatful embrace,
My lungs no longer expand with the breath of life,
Your embrace has become like a death grip upon my soul,
No longer able to see the truth from the lie,
Like a second rate actor who has forgotten his lines,
Desperately hoping someone will share life's script,
All the scenes have become like a blurr of agony,
The writer abandoned this play as a lost cause long ago,
But the play goes on regardless,
So we have to endure opening nights pain,
There shall be no encore to this portrait of existance,
Lights shall dim, audiences shall vanish,
Some may laugh, others may weep, some may ponder,
But the play shall end... And all shall cease to be,
What shall you learn from the role of your life? ...
Spread the love... The peace will folow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Life Or Death?
Every day we live, we always face death
We get closer to it, every time we take a breath
Life is special but death brings peace
Life brings reality and things you believe
Death is hard for everyone around
Death is quiet, no more bad sounds
Life is also hard, all the things we go through
Life can never be easy, no matter what you do
Death is sad, for those who cry
Death is meaningful, for those who die
Life is a work of art, it's nice to look
Life is full of teachings, like an open book
Death is the new life, might as well be dead
Death is a lot more, for what's up ahead
Life brings new things, always something new
Life brings surprises, something out the blue
Death is scary, nothing we want to see
Death is negative, a place we don't want to be
Life is full of love, with the ones close to you
Life is full of money, for those who sue
Death is empty, nothing compared to this
Death is a lot of things, too long of a list
But life is everything; don't wait till there's nothing left
Death can wait, so don't waste your last breath
So just pick your choice, which one? Life or death?
poem by Triauna Hall
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Ah! cruel Amarillis
Ah! cruel Amarillis, since thou tak’st delight
To hear the accents of a doleful ditty,
To triumph still without remorse or pity;
I loathe this life,death must my sorrow right;
And lest vain hope my miseries renew,
Come quickly,death,
‘Reave me of breath,
Ah! cruel Amarillis, adieu.
poem by John Wilbye
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Life After Death
(ian hunter)
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death?
Do you believe? oh yeah!
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death?
Do you believe? oh yeah!
Do you stop take another roller coaster ride
Do I beg, steal, cheat or lie? oh my is there life after death?
Oh I wish Id never smoked so much
I wish Id never felt the devils touch
All that passes through my eyes so fast. oh my.
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death?
Do you believe? oh yeah!
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death?
Do you believe? oh yeah!
Its such a sad sad song
Mother nature aint never wrong
She always tells you when youre getting on
Oh my, is there life after death?
I can hardly wait to see my face
Will I still have one in a different place
Oh youll forgive me if I hesitate, but oh my
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death? do you believe? oh yeah!
Is there life, is there life?
Is there life after death? do you believe? oh yeah!
Is it any wonder, I feel just a little bit under
I hear choirs filled with fenders say return to sender
Jumping information, Ive got hyperventilation
Will it help me if I walk the streets
I gotta get down search around here dragged by my feet
Oh no I never knew those (? )
Im gonna shake it, shake it, shake it, is there life after death
I cant remember when I felt so sick and rough
And now theyre gonna legalise the stuff
It sure tells you when youve had enough, off the cuff
Is there life, is there life? is there life after death? do you believe? oh yeah!
Is there life, is there life? is there life after death? do you believe,
Ive run out of breath.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death-Day Of Korner
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
The youth went down to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He went, with his noble heart unworn,
And pure, and high;
An eagle stooping from clouds of morn,
Only to die!
He went with the lyre, whose lofty tone
Beneath his hand
Had thrill'd to the name of his God alone,
And his Father-land.
And with all his glorious feelings yet
In their first glow,
Like a southern stream that no frost hath met
To chain its flow.
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He hath left a voice in his trumpet-lays
To turn the flight,
And a guiding spirit for after days,
Like a watch-fire's light.
And a grief in his father's soul to rest,
Midst all high thought;
And a memory unto his mother's breast,
With healing fraught.
And a name and fame above the blight
Of earthly breath,
Beautiful beautiful and bright,
In life and death!
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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The Death of Silence
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When even the soundless creature
Leave an echo
When the quiet evening sky
Speaks more volume
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When the darkness of night
Is calmed by the song of stars
When this cruel and frightening world
Is cheered by the joy of life
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When the trees swaying their branches
Whispering the news from afar
When the stone awaken to tell the story
And no more secret remains hidden
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When the wind fills the void
And noises the ears
When the sunshine touches the skin
And screams in eyes
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When you could taste the heart
Inside the food you eat
When you could understand
The meaning the breath that taken
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When smile is enough
To erase the rotten doubt
When love is abundant
To wash the bitter pain
Let's celebrate the day
The death of silence
When the soul finds its freedom
And not chained in the grief of body
When the call is passing
Through the memory and time
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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