California Saga/big Sur
Do do do do do do do do do
Cashmere hills filled with evergreens
Flowin from the clouds down to meet the sea
With the granite cliff
(big sur mount)
As a referee
Crimson sunsets and golden dawns
A mother deer with their newborn fawns
All under big sur skies
(big sur mount)
Thats where I belong.
Big sur Ive got plans for you
Me and mine are going to
Add ourselves to your lengthy list of lovers
(big sur mount)
And live in canyons covered in springtime green
Wild birds and flowers to be heard and seen
And with my old guitar
Ill make up songs to sing.
Where bubbling springs from the mountainside
Join the big sur river to the oceanside
Where the kids can look for sea shells at low tide
Big sur my astrology it says that I am made to be
Where the rugged mountain meets the water
And so while stars shine brightly from up above
The fog rolls in through a redwood grove
And to my dying fire I think Ill add a log.
From time to time I must go away
The thoughts of big sur wont let me stay
Away from big sur
Oh big sur
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Big Sur
Do do do do do do do do do
Cashmere hills filled with evergreens
Flowin from the clouds down to meet the sea
With the granite cliff
(big sur mount)
As a referee
Crimson sunsets and golden dawns
A mother deer with their newborn fawns
All under big sur skies
(big sur mount)
Thats where I belong.
Big sur Ive got plans for you
Me and mine are going to
Add ourselves to your lengthy list of lovers
(big sur mount)
And live in canyons covered in springtime green
Wild birds and flowers to be heard and seen
And with my old guitar
Ill make up songs to sing.
Where bubbling springs from the mountainside
Join the big sur river to the oceanside
Where the kids can look for sea shells at low tide
Big sur my astrology it says that I am made to be
Where the rugged mountain meets the water
And so while stars shine brightly from up above
The fog rolls in through a redwood grove
And to my dying fire I think Ill add a log.
From time to time I must go away
The thoughts of big sur wont let me stay
Away from big sur
Oh big sur
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hayloft
Through all the pleasant meadow-side
The grass grew shoulder-high,
Till the shining scythes went far and wide
And cut it down to dry.
Those green and sweetly smelling crops
They led the waggons home;
And they piled them here in mountain tops
For mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail,
Mount Eagle and Mount High;--
The mice that in these mountains dwell,
No happier are than I!
Oh, what a joy to clamber there,
Oh, what a place for play,
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,
The happy hills of hay!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Fancy In Nubibus, Or The Poet In The Clouds
O! it is pleasant with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould
Of a friend's fancy; or with head bent low
And cheek aslant see rivers flow of gold
'Twixt crimson banks; and then, a traveller, go
From mount to mount through Cloudland, gorgeous land!
Or list'ning to the tide, with closed sight,
Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light
Beheld the Iliad and Odyssey
Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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See Off This Mountain
Shes a blue ridge cradle shes a mother to some and home to the laughter of road weary ones so well sing all the old songs sing to grandmama road and well sing cause we miss her
Were sad she had to go if I could see off this mountain through the clouds in my eyes I would see off this mountain on the nights stars fell and see off this mountain through the te
N my eyes I would see off this mountain and the stars fell from the skies in the air I hear a fiddle down along hickory way and the mandolin guitar like we used to play and down on
s rock brothers boasting a dare we tell them theyre crazy and pretend we dont care if I could see off this mountain through the clouds in my eyes I would see off this mountain o
Nights stars fell and see off this mountain through the tears in my eyes I would see off this mountain and the stars fell from the skies the air tastes like moonshine in the wind a ca
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Ival tune it soars with our laughter but well all leave too soon so I raise a toast to family put thanks in my glass in the arms of your loved ones its the only home that lasts i
Ould see off this mountain through the clouds in my eyes I would see off this mountain on the night the stars fell and see off this mountain through the tears in my eyes I could see
His mountain when the stars fell from the skies when the stars fell from the skies going up to grandmama road going up to grandmama road Im happy as can be cause cant you see i
Ng up to grandmama road
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 11
Which are the clouds, and which the mountains? See,
They mix and melt together! Yon blue hill
Looks fleeting as the vapors which distill
Their dews upon its summit, while the free
And far-off clouds, now solid, dark, and still,
An aspect wear of calm eternity.
Each seems the other, as our fancies will --
The cloud a mount, the mount a cloud, and we
Gaze doubtfully. So everywhere on earth,
This foothold where we stand with slipping feet,
The unsubstantial and substantial meet,
And we are fooled until made wise by Time.
Is not the obvious lesson something worth,
Lady? or have I wov'n an idle rhyme?
poem by Henry Timrod
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Beautiful Mount Fuji
Beautiful Mount Fuji,
How are you?
Oh glory wonderland!
I am a passerby to say hello to you.
All the nations have heard about you,
From the morning frost to a picture at dawn;
Oh glory, glory, glory wonderland! !
Mount Fuji is your name.
Beautiful Mount Fuji how are you?
You already know my name since,
I am your frequent visitor;
All the nations have heard about you as well,
Like the precious stones on our necks.
I only need to climb you once to gain wisdom,
Beautiful Mount Fuji how are you?
I have hopes and dreams like all the visitors around;
Oh glory wonderland.
With Fujiyama as sight to play a role,
Come in the night and see her wonders;
Beautiful Mount Fuji,
I do respect you a lot.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Love Poem-1 Shine O Moon! Shine.
Shine O Moon! Shine brightly now
for my beloved
is coming to kindle
the fire of love.
Shine O Moon! Shine brightly now.
Unending seemed to be the nights
succumbing to death were diminishing lights
his appearance illuminates now
my temple of love.
Shine O Moon! Shine brightly now.
O moon, play hide and seek
I have him, my love to share
behind the clouds hide you moon
he takes refuge beneath my lustrous hair.
Shine O Moon! Shine brightly if you care
Sing a melody in company of the stars
and sleep with the moonshine
my lap is for him to sleep
as he is only mine.
AS HE IS ONLY MINE.
Shine O Moon! Shine brightly shine.
(2010)
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Middle Man
There was a mountain and there were three trees
There was a good man and there were two thieves
A man called Barabas was doomed for the tree
But Jesus took the middle one and Barabas went free
I love that man in the middle because I know he first loved me
Praise to that man who died on Mount Calvary
The middle man made it possible that I could go free
A hill called Golgotha the place of a skull
No yellow flowers, no trees in bloom the scenery was so dull
Three crosses stood black and bold against a darkened sky
And not from pain but a broken heart that middle man died
I love that man in the middle because I know he first loved me
Praise to that man who died on Mount Calvary
The middle man made it possible that I could go free
I love that man in the middle because I know he first loved me
Praise to that man who died on Mount Calvary
The middle man made it possible that I could go free
Praise to that man who died on Mount Calvary
The middle man made it possible that I could go free.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Call Of April
April calling, April calling,
April calling me!
I hear the voice of April there
In each old apple tree:
Bee-boom and wild perfume,
And wood-brook melody,
O hark, my heart, and hear, my heart,
The April Ecstasy!
Hark to the hills, the oldtime hills,
That talk with sea and sky!
Or speak in murmurs with God's winds
Who on their bosoms lie:
Bird-call and waterfall
And white clouds blowing by,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
The April's cosmic cry!
There runs a whisper through the woods,
The word of bough to bough,
A sound of dead things donning green,
Of Beauty waking now:
Fern-bower and wilding flower,
Each like a prayer or vow,
O see, my heart, O look, my heart,
Where Earth crowns white her brow!
And far away, and far away,
Yet nearer than she seems,
Look where she takes the oldtime trail
And walks again with dreams:
Bird note and blue remote
And laughter of wild streams,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
And follow where she gleams!
Earth has put off her winter garb
Of gray and drab and dun,
And robes herself in raiment green
Of love and laughter spun:
Wood-bloom and wood-perfume
And colors of the sun,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
Where her wild footsteps run!
O April, mother of my soul,
Take to your heart your child:
And let him lie a little while
Upon its rapture wild:
Lean close and near, and let him hear
The words that once beguiled,
And on his eyes the kiss again
Of longing reconciled.
O kiss, that fills the fields with flowers
And thrills with green each grove,
Dream down into this heart again
And grow to songs thereof:
Wild songs in singing throngs,
That swift shall mount above,
And, like to birds, with lyric words,
Take Earth and Heaven with love.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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St Michaels Mount is a favourite place of mine; people will walk across to the Mount all day and assume they will be able to walk home. The spectacle of hundreds of people realising that the path they walked over on is disappearing under several feet of water is very amusing.
Her courtesy
She wakes up every morning,
Straight to the help of humanity,
A philanthropist i label,
She has passion for mankind,
Mount Isa she resides
The weather so unbearable,
Yet she works all day,
The media follows her always,
She has priceless purity
Mount Isa she resides
I wish to see the mountains,
Explore the mines with her,
Feel the heat together,
The blazing sun so bright,
Mount Isa here i come
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Beautiful Balmoral
Ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see
Beautiful Balmoral, near by the River Dee;
There ye will see the deer browsing on the heathery hills,
While adown their sides run clear sparkling rills.
Which the traveller can drink of when he feels dry,
And admire the dark River Dee near by,
Rolling smoothly and silently on its way,
Which is most lovely to see on a summer day.
There the trout do sport and play
During the live-long summer day;
Also plenty of salmon are there to be seen,
Glittering like silver in the sun's sheen.
And the mountains are rugged and wild to be seen,
But the woodlands are beautiful when Nature's face is green;
There numerous rabbits do gambol all day
Amongst the green scrubbery all lively and gay.
There's one charming spot most magnificent to be seen,
'Tis Balmoral Castle, the Highland Home of our Queen;
The surrounding scenery is enchanting to see,
While near by rolls past the lovely River Dee.
Therefore, ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see
Beautiful Balmoral Castle and its grand scenery,
And the sight will fill your hearts with glee,
As ye walk along the bonnie banks o' the River Dee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Meeting again [Revedere]
– Forest friendly and sincere,
How are you today, my dear,
For since I have seen you last
Lots of years have quickly passed
And since far away I've been
Half the world my eyes have seen.
– I do always what I know,
Hear the blizzard bringing woe,
Breaking branches in its race
Covering the waters' face
Snowing up the narrow way
Chasing all my birds away;
– And in summer, all the time,
Hear the doina, song sublime,
On the path where people mount
To fetch water from the fount,
Filling their jugs with care
Sing the women young and fair.
– Forest dear, with rivers clear
Time goes by and time comes near.
You are young, as people say,
But grow younger every day.
– What is time, despite its aches
Stars still sparkle in the lakes,
If the time is good around
The wind blows, the leaves will sound;
If the time is wild and free
Flows the Danube to the sea,
Only people change from birth,
Wandering upon the earth,
While we stay unmoved therein,
Peaceful as we've always been:
Rivers, oceans, sandy strands,
The world with its desert lands,
Moon and sun and other things,
And the forest with its springs.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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Marco Polo
READING how Marco Polo came
By bridle-path to Kanbalu,
Forgotten fibres wake to flame,
And smoke old memories anew . . . .
For in a bygone life of mine
I watched the carven rampart shine,
Where Kublai's five-clawed dragons glowed
Like painted wyverns, line on line.
And past those plaster dragon-heads,
Those frescoes cut with curious flowers,
In verdigris and lilac-reds
Old tiles gleamed on the crusted towers,
While bridges cleft of serpent-stone
Bowed by their side, like branches blown
From some high granite Tree of Life
Whose roots were coiled round Kublai's throne.
O myrtles on the Jasper Mount,
O forest-towered elephants,
And fire-fish in the topaz fount
With red fins blown like water-plants,
And green cornelian tortoise-rows
Below the aqueduct, and those
Gold-feathered cranes, I saw them all,
How many ages gone, who knows?
I saw tall gilded Tartars pass
Behind their marble balustrades,
With maces made of beaten brass
And turquoise-hafted sabre-blades.
I heard the little golden bells
Blow faintly down the citadels,
And spied those ivory courts within
Through windows of transparent shells.
But past the fountain-pools I peered,
Beyond the birds, to that divan,
Where, fingering his tawny beard,
In silence dreamed the splendid Khan.
Green china bowls of wine were there,
And oranges and milk-of-mare,
While, stamping on his jewelled wrist,
A falcon climbed with eyes aflare.
He's gone; and with him, flowers and birds,
And old Venetians too, have died;
Yet burnt in Marco Polo's words,
Those unforgotten splendours hide . . .
And, tired of life's new-fashioned plan,
I long to be barbarian.
I'm sick of modern men, I wish
You were still living, Kublai-Khan!
poem by Kenneth Slessor
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The Pilgrim
Youth's gay springtime scarcely knowing
Went I forth the world to roam--
And the dance of youth, the glowing,
Left I in my father's home,
Of my birthright, glad-believing,
Of my world-gear took I none,
Careless as an infant, cleaving
To my pilgrim staff alone.
For I placed my mighty hope in
Dim and holy words of faith,
"Wander forth--the way is open,
Ever on the upward path--
Till thou gain the golden portal,
Till its gates unclose to thee.
There the earthly and the mortal,
Deathless and divine shall be!"
Night on morning stole, on stealeth,
Never, never stand I still,
And the future yet concealeth,
What I seek, and what I will!
Mount on mount arose before me,
Torrents hemmed me every side,
But I built a bridge that bore me
O'er the roaring tempest-tide.
Towards the east I reached a river,
On its shores I did not rest;
Faith from danger can deliver,
And I trusted to its breast.
Drifted in the whirling motion,
Seas themselves around me roll--
Wide and wider spreads the ocean,
Far and farther flies the goal.
While I live is never given
Bridge or wave the goal to near--
Earth will never meet the heaven,
Never can the there be here!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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St. Helens
This volcanic mountain stands in great majesty
Pregnant with knowledge o'er time
Upon the threshold of birthing baskests of lava filled knowledge
Todays Pilgrims take on its steep climb;
Longing for answers of its history
Of this planet and perhaps e'en beyond
At the base of this most gand mountain
The Pilgrims kneel in awe of what has been found;
Cavernous caves formed o'er the years
Tiny echos of the pilgrims voices are heard
Nearby-birds in a nest-make for the best
Flying 'neath the mountain are the Bluebirds;
In the space surrounding this mountain
Multiple eulogies are played in the thin air
But with nary a casket only knowledge filled lava baskets
Words of knowledge of the mountain now lay bare;
Mount Saint Helens
In Remembrance of Her Eruption in 1980
And how many of my aunts and uncles
Had to move further away because of the
Volcanic ash and debris in the air.
poem by Theodora Onken
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Spring Time Is Coming
Beautiful Spring is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here,
For the clear bright sun is shining
All human hearts to cheer.
One the brightest gems of nature
Is the orb that o'er us shines,
And o'er the wide creation,
It'll shine to the end of time.
The birds will soon be singing
On shrub and bough of trees,
Their notes will soon be ringing
Out, forth so merrily.
They love the merry spring time,
Those little birds we love,
They love the pleasant sunshine
That comes down from above.
We can hear them sweetly singing
From early morn, till night.
They make music in the woodland
Those little birds; so bright,
We should dearly love them,
Those little harmless things,
And when we hear their music,
We know that it is spring.
Ah; it's pleasant in the springtime,
All nature seems so gay.
Bright flowers in the sunshine,
Sweet fragrance can display.
The hills, and dales, and meadows,
So beautifully covered o'er;
With natures richest verdure,
The green grass, as of yore.
The winter will soon be over,
With its cold and chilly winds.
It is sad and dreary ever,
Yet its dying, free from sin.
Now the springtime is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here.
We will welcome in its coming
In this glad new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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April Is In The World Again
April is in the world again,
And all the world is filled with flowers-
Flowers for others, not for me!
For my one flower I cannot see,
Lost in the April showers.
I cannot wake her, though I sing,
And all the birds, for her dear sake,
Fill with their songs the wintry brake;
Ah! could they make her rise again,
What resurrection would be mine!
Is she too tired to help the sun
And all the little stars to shine?
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Mucho Mungo/mt. Elga
Mucho mungo, sweet thing,
Sweetest little thing i've ever seen.
It must have been a sweet dream,
Brought you here,
Brought you through the sorrow
And the tears.
C'est la, c'est la, c'est la vie,
Sail upon the ocean, sail with me.
Sail into tomorrow ev'ry day,
Just looking for the sunshine
Through the haze.
But wait! what's this
I see?
Could it be?
Mount elga, mount elga,
A high mountain,
I climb as i'm dreaming, a-huh.
Mount elga, mount elga,
A high mountain,
I climb as i'm dreaming,
Catching me hell.
To climb this hill
The more i try to climb,
I'm slipping still.
Me body run down,
Me feeling weak.
The more i try to climb up
This mountain peak.
Mucho mungo, sweet thing,
Sweetest little thing since sweet sixteen.
C'est la, c'est la, c'est la vie,
Sail across the ocean,
Sail with me.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ripples
Come join the river choir
We sing of deep currents of hope
Love has made us friends
The shoulders are strong
Carry me my friends
I will always pray and stay true
Candles by the forgotten village
Can you hear the ghost dogs?
Shawls and dandelions
Deer and geese
We will always be young
Tears like wine
Night has stars
Old friends never leave
Granite filled with moonlight
Ripples of the ghost river
Ladies as gentle as acoustic guitars
Mello evening with peace signs
Our banner was heard
Our circle is forever
The great circle of the tribes
Surprised by love once again
Ripples as ancient as rivers
Ripples on faces of the waves
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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