Comrade Vagabond
I am just a vagabond, I am just a vagabond! !
Across the globe, I move on….
Seeking not my home….
I am just a vagabond, I am just a vagabond! !
From Luit, through the Mississippi, I saw the Volga’s beauty…
From Ottawa, via Austria, I hugged the Paris City.
From Ellora to Chicago, I spread the splendor of antiquity…
I listened to Ghalib’s couplets in Dushanbe Minaret with gaiety.
Sitting on Mark Twain’s grave, I spoke of Gorky…
Everytime the strangers appear, being tied with a bond….
So I am vagabond, so Iam vagabond! !
With so many aimless vagabonds, I do have a goal…
To share the colours of life is just my goal.
With so many aimless vagabonds, I do have a goal…
To share the colours of life is just my goal.
I have seen so many skyscrapers, so great…
So have I seen homeless poors by their shade.
I have seen evergreen gardens in front of some home…
So have I seen dried flowers dying in blossom.
The bonded labourers across the Nations makes me feel tensed…
Our own fellow beings have been strangers in their home…
So I am vagabond, I am just a vagabond..
Across the globe, I move on….
Seeking not my home….
I am just a vagabond, I am just a vagabond! !
(Originally composed in Assamese as ‘Moi Eti Jajabor’ by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika)
(Set to original tune)
poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah
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Related quotes
The Slave and the Vagabond
The slave worked hard, all day long.
The vagabond slept, all day long.
The slave died tired, broken, and in debt.
The vagabond died free, without regret.
poem by Chaarzarul Rockett
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Vagabond Of The Western World
I could tell you the story of a vagabond
A playboy of the western world
One day by chance he came upon
A fair young maid, a country girl
He told her that he loved her
And he took all of her silver
He told her that he needed her too
He said hey baby, you got eyes of blue
But he was a vagabond
Blue eyes, oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
The kind of eyes that say I do eyes
Oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
Oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
He roamed around the cities
Searching for his fortune and fame
No lady ever got to know his name
Shame, but that was his game
Gave a girl a baby boy
He said this child is my pride and joy
Im busy running wild and free
Make sure he grows up like me
And Im a vagabond
Blue eyes, oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
The kind of eyes that say I do eyes
Oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
Oh baby blue, oh blue eyes
Oh I could tell you a story of a vagabond
He was a playboy of the western world
He wore an earring in his left ear
You see his father he was a gypsy
You just might meet him upon the highway
Pretty fine dancer too
But hes leave you blue, hed leave
Hed leave you woman
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ability-2
Vagabond the husband..
Job to job, place to place
Loitering in unsteady wandering
His own wishful ideology
Towed wife followed in silence
Dragged to get abraded
Of frequent packing and unpacking
Fueled his reasonless loathing routine
Smoldering her sparkles to rupture
Bursted the female heart one day
On decision of no divorce
Her silent angst but to settle
An occupation and destination
Permanent for herself
All with blessed guts she scored
Raising high her children
Her status, her house..a happy home
And her vagabond hubby...
A regular sunday-visitor
Hosteling to relish her
'Jansi Rani'(I call her so) ..
Her clever silence is composed
For her daughters, for their marriage
So not to break her own wedlock
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Whereever I May Roam
Wherever I May Roam
...and the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
so in her I do confide
and she keeps me satisfied
gives me all I need
...and with dust in throat I crave
only knowledge will I save
to the game you stay a slave
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll redefine anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
...and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
under wandering stars I've grown
by myself but not alone
I ask no one
...and my ties are severed clean
the less I have the more I gain
off the beaten path I reign
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll never mind anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
but i'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind
and I'll take my find anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
carved upon my stone
my body lie, but still I roam
wherever I may roam
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A vagabond monk never spoke well of his convent.
Wherever I May Roam
(whispered) ...and the road becomes my bride
...and the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
so in her I do confide
and she keeps me satisfied
gives me all I need
...and with dust in throat I crave
only knowledge will I save
to the game you stay a slave
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll redefine anywhere
anywhere I may road
where I lay my head is home
(whispered) ...and the earth becomes my throne
...and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
under wandering stars I've grown
by myself but not alone
I ask no one
...and my ties are severed clean
the less I have the more I gain
off the beaten path I reign
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll never mind anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
but i'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind
and I'll take my find anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
carved upon my stone
my body lie
song performed by by Metallica from Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roofs
(For Amelia Josephine Burr)
The road is wide and the stars are out
and the breath of the night is sweet,
And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet.
But I'm glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my face,
And to leave the splendour of out-of-doors for a human dwelling place.
I never have seen a vagabond who really liked to roam
All up and down the streets of the world and not to have a home:
The tramp who slept in your barn last night and left at break of day
Will wander only until he finds another place to stay.
A gypsy-man will sleep in his cart with canvas overhead;
Or else he'll go into his tent when it is time for bed.
He'll sit on the grass and take his ease so long as the sun is high,
But when it is dark he wants a roof to keep away the sky.
If you call a gypsy a vagabond, I think you do him wrong,
For he never goes a-travelling but he takes his home along.
And the only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows,
Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which it goes.
They say that life is a highway and its milestones are the years,
And now and then there's a toll-gate where you buy your way with tears.
It's a rough road and a steep road and it stretches broad and far,
But at last it leads to a golden Town where golden Houses are.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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A man who leaves home to mend himself and others is a philosopher; but he who goes from country to country, guided by the blind impulse of curiosity, is a vagabond.
quote by Oliver Goldsmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kurosawa and truth
recall a movie of Kurosawa
akira kurosawa’s, darsu usala
three people involved
a pretty lovely girl, her husband
and a vagabond in forest.
Girl and man on horseback
Looklike a honeymoon trip
Into the vastness n wilderness
On the way in some corner
vagabond appeared and
killed her husband and lope with lass
Later in court jurisdiction
The wonderful part of the story
Jury listen the girl, wagabond
and two three witnesses
all illustrates the events taken place
all in different version and dimension,
she has a role in killing, the husband too
the observer the viewer, the listener
get confused, which is right ………….
Still I ponder the film and not sure
Who is right and who is wrong
The truth always a player
A magnificient masqurader.
It helps n hallucinates you
It brings you confusion
It breaks your peace
It brings your peace
-------
to share a mem and to tell to watch kurosawas movies.
-------------------
salu
Ode To The Wind
the wind
now it is a vagabond
sweeping the road
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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St. Alexis, Patron of Beggars
We who beg for bread as we daily tread
Country lane and city street,
Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway
To the saint with the vagrant feet.
Our altar light is a buttercup bright,
And our shrine is a bank of sod,
But still we share St. Alexis' care,
The Vagabond of God.
They gave him a home in purple Rome
And a princess for his bride,
But he rowed away on his wedding day
Down the Tiber's rushing tide.
And he came to land on the Asian strand
Where the heathen people dwell;
As a beggar he strayed and he preached and prayed
And he saved their souls from hell.
Bowed with years and pain he came back again
To his father's dwelling place.
There was none to see who this tramp might be,
For they knew not his bearded face.
But his father said, "Give him drink and bread
And a couch underneath the stair."
So Alexis crept to his hole and slept.
But he might not linger there.
For when night came down on the seven-hilled town,
And the emperor hurried in,
Saying, "Lo, I hear that a saint is near
Who will cleanse us of our sin,"
Then they looked in vain where the saint had lain,
For his soul had fled afar,
From his fleshly home he had gone to roam
Where the gold-paved highways are.
We who beg for bread as we daily tread
Country lane and city street,
Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway
To the saint with the vagrant feet.
Our altar light is a buttercup bright,
And our shrine is a bank of sod,
But still we share St. Alexis' care,
The Vagabond of God!
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Armadillo Streets
The dust has just begun to settle
Forming crop circles in the carpet
Oil marks kiss the walls
Where pleasure moments hung before
Spin me around one last time
Disappear with the walking sun
Look down that road lonely traveler
Before you pack your things
Vagabond shoes have lead you nowhere
But further away from home
Look down that road lonely traveler
Before you turn to leave
Just a tumbleweed blowing aimlessly
Along armadillo streets
Count the days as they barely move
Denying you didn't stop you from coming
Consumed under the trance of the moon
Enter Casanova
As ransom notes fall from your lips
Lies espoused, digested through a hungry mouth
Defense falls paper thin, until
I loose all inhibitions
Look down that road lonely traveler
Before you pack your things
Vagabond shoes have lead you nowhere
But further away from home
Look down that road lonely traveler
Before you turn to leave
Just a tumbleweed blowing aimlessly
Along armadillo streets
The residue of another late nate rendevous
Greets me with the morning light
Half smoked cigarettes, a bottle of gin
A post card signed, 'See you next time'
I trace your silohette into the heels of your mirage
But I never did plan to understand
What happened after dark
Look down that road lonely traveler
Before you turn to leave
Just a tumbleweed blowing aimlessly
Along armadillo streets
poem by Kay Gardner
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City of Moon
City of Moon
If your heart is not ruined by wild beast
Touching the flower the sun spread smell sweet
Because of southern wind’s touch as storm rises in sea
Unknown lady with your touch I want to reach in moon city.
Touching the flower the sun spread smell sweet
Love that goes to brothel is not clean and nit
Unknown lady with your touch I want to reach in moon city
Puzzled vagabond wishes to be illuminated you are not lucky.
Love that goes to brothel is not clean and nit
Dwelling together with moon- is parallel unknown lady sweet
Puzzled vagabond wishes to be illuminated you are not lucky
In favorite dew bathed grass looks at sun and sea.
Dwelling together with moon- is parallel unknown lady sweet
Alas! The slaves become ruined when the sun and sea meet
In favorite dew bathed grass looks at sun and sea
Glided light is laughing as you appear to me.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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A mime in an abandon playhouse
I am home again Mom!
Your poor little vagabond,
After a strenuous adventure.
I bought you some rare black pearls.
A gypsy woman sold in the port of Casablanca.
She read the mind too and forced me to go back home soon.
And to whom I show this loose-leaf travelogue?
Because Mom you are already departed leaving me in a solitary inn.
I replace the black pearls into your missing necklace
Which I found in the back graveyard while searching your tomb.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A decayed Inn
A skinny vagabond comes from afar,
and he himself doesn't know
where he comes from?
Or his destination.
Perhaps this could be a stopover.
He is only a tenant of the building
and it's belongs to a debutante
who lives in delusion.
Poor fellow needs a tinker to mend his soul
and he is anxiously searching a panacea.
Will he be able to find?
before he enlisted to the run away crowd.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Stars
My stars
So far
No one's callin me home
Space brain
Vagabond
Living on my own
Come all ye faithful
You know all you people should come to me
I'll make you arms work
And I'll make your legs work
I'll make you see
Ladada dadada dadada dadada da da dum
Whoa
song performed by by Alice Cooper from School's Out
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The oblique shadow
'Walk straight dear Master.'
He mutters.
Thank you for your advise
And I'll try my level best.
Please do not misunderstand me
As I always think of you.
You must be tired of the journey with a vagabond.
My ambition is to fulfill your welfare
And I want to release you soon friend,
If time permits?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Frankie Lee
Writers: leo sayer & ray parker, jr.
On every corner of every avenue
The words been passed all around
Better watch out, lock up your daughters
cause that bad frankie lee is back in town
All the ladies fall for frankie
Sayin, frankie lee, how can it be
Of all the men here, youre the only one
Whos got the key, to set us free
Oh, frankie lee
Now theres a woman, in this neighborhood
Whos loving frankie in her mind
But in fear of bein discovered
She keeps her secret locked up inside
Just then a stones thrown up at the window
And she looks below, what does she see
Theres a man there, standing neath the streetlight
It looks to be
Like frankie lee
Youd best believe
Well, old frankie steals through the back door
While her old man is leavin by the hall
But before she hears his footsteps
Frankies standing at the bedroom door
So she holds him, then she begs him
Oh frankie lee, dont cha ever leave
And he tells her, shes the only one
Hes got the key
That frankie lee
To set her free
Then as the moon fades, into the night sky
Frankie leaves while shes asleep
Then hes up and out on the street again
Hes got the key thatll set you free
That frankie lee
Every kid in this ol gangtown
Theyd want to be like frankie lee
Please the ladies, like a vagabond
Hes got the key
That frankie lee
To set them free
Yeah, every kid in this ol gangtown
Yeah, theyd want to be like frankie lee
Cassanova and valentino
Theyd like to be as good as frankie lee
Every kid in this ol gangtown
Theyd like to be like frankie lee
Please the ladies, like a vagabond
Hes got the key
That frankie lee
To set them free
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking For Meaning
she comes to an age
not of reason but of trying to figure out
what she really means:
a mother for kids
a doctor for the natives
a vagabond for life
or an absconder from
her past
whatever that means
she will take the chances
she goes on a trek
on the mountains
moving on
for greater heights
looking for
meaning
re-creating reconstructing
some pieces of herself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Because You Have Faith In You
because you do not understand it completely
you let it mesmerize
you,
logic sits upon a rock under a tree
then sleeps
so soundly
as imagination spreads its wings and then flaps it
soaring in the sky
like the kite when you were once a child
like the jet plane when you left your beloved in preference of latitude
like a cloud that hovers upon a hill and rests there like a vagabond
with no home yet in mind
you set aside the need for understanding
you are happy and singing and wandering
you have no direction
yet you are so full like a river bringing so many memories to the
sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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