Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland
THE old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knock- narea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
Bridget: You did not tell us your name yet, ma'am.
Old Woman: Some call me the Poor Old Woman, and there are some that call me Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
line from Cathleen ni Houlihan, script by William Butler Yeats (1902)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Old Woman: If anyone would give me help he must give me himself, he must give me all.
line from Cathleen ni Houlihan, script by William Butler Yeats (1902)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Peter: What is that sound I hear?
Patrick: I don't hear anything. [He listens.] I hear it now. It's like cheering. [He goes to the window and looks out.] I wonder what they are cheering about. I don't see anybody.
line from Cathleen ni Houlihan, script by William Butler Yeats (1902)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Who is the Best..?
Once there was this Rishi
Living under a banyan tree
Meditating on Him, all his life
Alone, without worries or wife..
It was a sunny day, bit hazy
Rishi was relaxed and lazy
A mouse came running and fell at his feet
A cat came chasing to eat
The mouse prayed 'Gimme shelter or u sin'
The cat said 'Protecting my food is no less a thing'
Rishi had to decide one way or other
Rishi blessed the mouse to be his daughter
The daughter grew into a beautiful woman
Time came for Rishi to think of her man.
He asked the daughter for any criteria or test
She said she wanted only the Best
Best of a man is a Rishi, said the father
Not really so, said the daughter
When Rishi said, better than a Rishi is the only Sun
No, said the daughter, not the burning hot one!
Rishi asked the Sun, if he knows anyone better
The Sun said, try the Cloud, it hides my power
When Rishi told her of the Cloud's valor
No, said the daughter, I hate the dark color
Rishi asked the Cloud, who betters it
The Cloud said, surely the Wind, it blows me out
Rishi asked the daughter, if Wind is her choice
No, said the daughter, It just makes noise.
Rishi asked the Wind, for a better person
The Wind said, It is the immovable Mountain
Rishi asked the daughter, if Mountain passes her test
No, said the daughter, full of trough and crest
Rishi asked the Mountain for the best in the land
The Mountain said, It is the Mouse that crushes it to sand
Rishi asked the daughter, if Mouse is her groom
Yes, said the daughter, I love his eyes that zoom..
Rishi made his daughter back into a mouse
They married and lived in a hole as their house
The Best for a mouse is mouse, for Rishi a Rishi, for crook a crook
It depends on what you look out for; your outlook!
poem by TheBigThinkg Human
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If I Could Be The Wind
I want to be the wind blowing in forest playing their own song.
I want to be the wind bringing smiles for farmers.
I want to be the wind bringing rain, helping fireman in his hardest time.
I want to be the wind assisting plant to expand their kingdom.
I want to be the wind smoothly blowing over the sea and bringing fisherman home safely.
I want to be the wind covering the thing which ought to be left in past.
I want to be the wind clearing the mind of those with agony
I want to be the wind blowing in summer and tending to those without shelter.
I want to be the wind which bring happiness to the children taking their kite high up in the sky.
I want to be the wind removing clouds of torment and allowing sun to lay down its vital warmth.
I want to be the wind which remove thorn from path and help people to move forward.
I want to be the wind helping bird to take their first flight.
I want to be the wind which leaves versifier rapt giving him his divine words
I want to be the wind blowing all over place bringing happiness to people and vanishes stealthily, unnoticed.
I WANT TO BE THE WIND…
poem by Parth Gwari
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Daughter of the Night
My body’s very heavy, lethargy
My eyelid’s very heavy, fluttering
My hand’s very heavy, twitching
My breathing’s very heavy, ragged
The sun is setting, bats are betting
The rats are scurrying
The miners are hurrying
The women are worrying
The sun is running
The moon is coming
Eye’s open, deep breath
Sky’s open, black death
Door’s open, living death
Daughter of the night
Slaughter of the light
Hunger pangs, bare fangs
Know where the younger, gangs
Know where the younger, hangs
Hear the blood flowing
Hear the wind blowing
A deep dark desire
A deep dark promise
Daughter of the night
poem by Anand Dixit
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Color Of The Wind
The wind blows blue
when it misses you.
the wind blows red
when it knows your dead.
the wind blows green
when it it sees you being mean.
the wind blows white
when your about to take flight.
the wind blows black
whenever it knows your not coming back.
the wind blows pink
whenever your blood is ink.
the wind blows orange
whenever you cant rhyme with orange.
the wind blows yellow
whenever you cant be mellow.
if i am black
then why wont you ever come back?
if i am red
then shall i weep because your dead?
if i am blue
then should i miss you?
if i am green
then must you be very mean?
if i am yellow
then why wont you be mellow?
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus
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Trouble Mover
When the wind blows...
The times for some may stir uneasy.
High tides surge,
And can knock some off,
A rolling courage wave.
Settle down!
And a calm will ease to please.
If one surrenders...
Their faith will prove,
God is a trouble mover!
When the wind blows...
With clouds and sounds of roaring thunder.
A brewing stew tricks to mix and kick,
Bristles in one's way!
The ship that sails may tilt and threaten,
A quick capsize.
But God is the 'Entity' that saves the brave!
When the wind blows...
The times for some may stir uneasy!
High tides surge,
Knocking many off a courage wave!
If we settle down a calm will ease those queasy,
Surrendering to prove...
God is a trouble mover!
Settle down...
You can't save a choosing loser!
If we settle down,
We'll know...
God's a trouble mover!
Settle down,
And let God be the trouble mover!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Devil & Daughter
Silence is mocking the dawn of a new day
Devil and daughter are both on their way
The evil of her nature collects in her eyes
With him theres no fear of the dawn bringing light
Baptised with fire, too wild to be tamed
Shes hot, evil and ready to take any man
Let no one put assunder the power of the pain
He is the master of hell riding again
Devil and daughter - pleasure and pain
Devil and daughter - is this the end
A thousand times over, youll hear on the wind
In the name of hell, these sinners never sinned
But satan never listens to the words that they send
Drenching the soul with blood, when will it end
Devil and daughter
Hes got the power, shes got the pain
Devil and daughter
Shell break any woman and take any man
Devil and daughter
Hand in hand with the reaper
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High Wind Blowin'
(ArmandChater)
There's such a high wind blowing and it's snowing in my bed.
Oh, baby, you started flowers growing where nothing grew instead.
I need something to hide the failure of my garden and the way it grew.
Oh, baby, I didn't know I could depend on you.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep tonight.
I think that warm wind feel's all right.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep at all.
I feel like I'm gonna fall into your fine, high wind.
You look like twilight falling on the ocean in the setting sun.
Oh, baby, do you know what you have done?
I feel like you have changed my mind about living the way I do.
Oh, baby, I didn't know I could depend on you.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep tonight.
I think that warm wind feel's all right.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep at all.
I feel like I'm gonna fall into your fine, high wind.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson
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A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
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Winds that Whisper Hello
The clouds are high above,
Floating freely this way and that.
The wind is whispering through the trees,
Rustling the leaves to sing to me.
I feel the wind upon my face,
The voices landing upon my ears.
The gentle winds warm me
And suddenly changes to cool breezes.
Temperatures changes suddenly,
When the wind shifts unexpectedly.
To hear the wind is to know
That somehow, someway it is saying hello.
poem by Carolyn Marie Taylor
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The King of Erin's Daughter
THE King of Erin's Daughter had wind-blown hair and bright,
The King of Erin's Daughter, her eyes were like the sea;
(O Rose of all the roses, have you forgotten quite
The story of the days of old that once you told to me?)
The King of Erin's Daughter went up the mountain side
And who but she was singing as she went upon her way,
'O somewhere waits a King's Son and I shall be his bride,
And tall he is and fair he is and none shall say him nay.'
The King of Erin's Daughter–O fair was she and sweet–
Went laughing up the mountain without a look behind
Till on the lofty summit that lay beneath her feet
She found a King's Son waiting there, his brows with poppies twined.
O tall was he and fair was he. He looked into her face
And whispered in her ear a word un-named of mortal breath
And very still she rested, clasped close in his embrace,
The King of Erin's Daughter, for the bridegroom's name was Death.
poem by Norah M. Holland
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You'll be safe, just trust me
Somebody once told me
Life is just full of troubles
We have to go through
But I want to turn back
And the end of the road
Would always be a secret
Dense fog
Hard rain
Black clouds
Dark night
The shiny sun is forgotten
The daylight is miles away
When we can see our destination,
We can turn back
We can go ahead
I know that the fog will disappear soon
And the hard rain will be finished if we hope that the rainbow will come
Those black clouds will be white again if we don’t lose our erasers
We can make it to the end of the road safely through the dark night,
If we don’t forget the lighted candle in our hearts
Never let the hopeless wind opens the door of your heart
It blows the candle
And then
There will be gloom forevermore
The candle will break through the gloom
Your destination is not far away
Just keep going on
And the candle
Remember that
Let is always shine in your heart
poem by Reihaneh Jalalian
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Soar With The Wind
What caused your hat to fall?
Alas, the wind started it all.
The wind can sometimes be deadly
But what happened to you really?
The wind blowing the leaves
The wind bothering the bees
But look at you, so nice and neat
What would you do with it?
Soar high like the wind
Aim high like the wind
But not too high or you will fall
I do not know if you can endure it all.
I want to ride with the wind
With you, dear, like a helpless weed.
Forever starts here with you
Like a fountain of water, kissing you.
Soar with the wind, be wild and free
Behold, just fly away and breathe.
The wind can sometimes be nice
But not too nice or you will die.
Enjoy its lasting peace
Sooner or later you will see
That it was just a reverie
Full of happiness and glee.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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The Winter's Come
Sweet chestnuts brown like soling leather turn;
The larch trees, like the colour of the Sun;
That paled sky in the Autumn seemed to burn,
What a strange scene before us now does run--
Red, brown, and yellow, russet, black, and dun;
White thorn, wild cherry, and the poplar bare;
The sycamore all withered in the sun.
No leaves are now upon the birch tree there:
All now is stript to the cold wintry air.
See, not one tree but what has lost its leaves--
And yet the landscape wears a pleasing hue.
The winter chill on his cold bed receives
Foliage which once hung oer the waters blue.
Naked and bare the leafless trees repose.
Blue-headed titmouse now seeks maggots rare,
Sluggish and dull the leaf-strewn river flows;
That is not green, which was so through the year
Dark chill November draweth to a close.
Tis Winter, and I love to read indoors,
When the Moon hangs her crescent up on high;
While on the window shutters the wind roars,
And storms like furies pass remorseless by.
How pleasant on a feather bed to lie,
Or, sitting by the fire, in fancy soar
With Dante or with Milton to regions high,
Or read fresh volumes we've not seen before,
Or oer old Burton's Melancholy pore.
poem by John Clare
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The Four Places Of Sorrow
There is sorrow for me in the North, where the black wind blows,
(Hush, O Wind of the dirges, O Voice of the restless dead!)
The ache of its cruel keening thro' my heart like an arrow goes,
I see in the tossing waters the sheen of a dear bright head.
There is sorrow for me in the South, where the white wind sings,
(Hush, O Wind of all lovers, crooning a laugh and a cry!)
On the pain of a dream love-haunted breaks the music of wings,
Seagulls, sweeping and swaying, saw ye my dead drift by?
There is sorrow for me in the East, where the red wind burns,
(Hush, O Wind of remorse, O Wind of the scourging flame!)
Under its slow cold dawning the soul of the drowned returns
And wan, in the startled daybreak, a ghost from the sea he came.
There is sorrow for me in the West, where the brown wind raves,
(Hush, O Wind from the bogs, O memory-freighted Wind!)
He is spindrift hither and thither, sport of unweary waves:
Would that my heart were close on his heart, my eyes on his eyes were blind!
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
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Eagle's song
Flying high in the sky, soaring
very high. High as an eagle
Yet only in my mind's eye.
Not giving up, yet continuing,
to try.
Gliding, through the gusty wind.
Until wings and the wind somehow blends together, as an acoustic, melodic strum, and births a song.
A gentle, distinct sound.
Is this the purpose?
A reason to the why,
Pressing through the storm, head lifted high
Eyes finally to see the sun piercing
behind the clouds. The eagle soars.
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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Wind Eternal And Ever Lasting Wind
Wind eternal and ever lasting Wind
Wherever on earth..there is the element wind
How powerful the strength of the wind
Uplifting a tremendeous deadly tidal wave
Pushing heavy clouds over mountain chain
Magically turning into heavy storm and rain
How fascinating the songs of the wind
Carrying up high the bird on spread wings
Looking almost like the shape of a fairy
So incredibly languishing and airy
How wonderful the feeling of decreasing wind
Blowing incessantly through the season of spring
Blooming flowers seem to shiver in a dance
As falling into a very special kind of trance
How enchanting to play with the wind
The heat blow still lingers
Kite surfs speeding up to be safe
Sails boat surfing on the crown of the wave
How subdued when watching the wind
Reminder of natural forces
Elements like earth wind and fire
For sure they will never ever tire
Wind eternal and ever lasting wind
wherever on earth..there is the element wind…..
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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