I saw my love only once
the flowers of spring
are not as lovely as you;
the mountain air in solitude
not as pure as you
I saw you only once
in the Grand House of the Lord of the Lands
and we exchanged glances as you sang
And though you sang
from a printed text for all
your eyes gave me
songs of longing and love
O where are you now
most gentle beloved?
I hear your owners move you
at the request of the Grand Lords
and though I
come to so many sessions
in which you might sing
and hoping each night
I might see you again
as I carry cups and meat for the feasting Lords
and that there as you deliver them the songs in the texts
I come that
you might look again at me
and give me the songs in your eyes
the flowers of spring
are not as lovely as you;
the mountain air in solitude
not as pure as you
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Over The Land Is April
OVER the land is April,
Over my heart a rose;
Over the high, brown mountain
The sound of singing goes.
Say, love, do you hear me,
Hear my sonnets ring?
Over the high, brown mountain,
Love, do you hear me sing?
By highway, love, and byway
The snows succeed the rose.
Over the high, brown mountain
The wind of winter blows.
Say, love, do you hear me,
Hear my sonnets ring?
Over the high, brown mountain
I sound the song of spring,
I throw the flowers of spring.
Do you hear the song of spring?
Hear you the songs of spring?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Walt Whitman
The master-songs are ended, and the man
That sang them is a name. And so is God
A name; and so is love, and life, and death,
And everything. But we, who are too blind
To read what we have written, or what faith
Has written for us, do not understand:
We only blink, and wonder.
Last night it was the song that was the man,
But now it is the man that is the song.
We do not hear him very much to-day:
His piercing and eternal cadence rings
Too pure for us --- too powerfully pure,
Too lovingly triumphant, and too large;
But there are some that hear him, and they know
That he shall sing to-morrow for all men,
And that all time shall listen.
The master-songs are ended? Rather say
No songs are ended that are ever sung,
And that no names are dead names. When we write
Men's letters on proud marble or on sand,
We write them there forever.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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A Happy Song...
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
* * *
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
006-Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
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Our Songs
We associate songs with memories
of when we first heard it played.
The song someone sang
on the day we met
becomes one of our beloved tunes.
Whenever we hear it play
our memories come flooding back
to remind us of that special day.
Some songs hold a touch of sadness
and bring tears whenever they are played
as memories of a loss spring to mind.
These are our songs
we attach to our memories
and will remain forever with us
for whenever we hear them play.
poem by David Harris
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Could The Spring Come Back Again
could the spring come back again or never
after we are accostumed to a harsh, white, frozen winter
the frozen sticks melted from the fringes
of the roofs
the hot rays of sun
are glitttering from the horizon
someone lit the light
somr sparrows and finches began to fly
on the yellow brown dog thistles
could the spring come back again
nobody knows how ı love my sisters
in their shields
protecting themselves
figthing with the harshness of life
defending themselves
walking like soldiers on roads
with big soldier bags on shoulders
prams fulll of children
some crying
some playing
some laughing
some sleeping in silence
could the spring come again
with her green leaves
multi color flowers
and singing birds
the little pretty girls
cladf in lovely dresses
may be twins
like lovely winter flowers
their mother in the midst
walking in the streets
telll me somebody
could spring come again
as in my young days
where and when
ı used to sing songs
poem by Metin Sahin
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Gone Are Those Sad Songs Sung
Gone are those sad songs,
Sung begun some sang.
With the singing of those sad songs,
Gone
Once sung 'then' now no one sings,
With a wish to begin them again.
Too many on the streets.
Now too accustomed to fresh beats,
Declare they will not be defeated.
By a repeating of old tunes.
Too many collectively.
Have decided to leave.
Gone are those sad songs,
Sung begun some sang.
With the singing of those sad songs,
Gone.
Once sung now no one chooses to sing,
With a wish to begin them again.
Solos and duets seem for many more accepted.
With a clouding once done to dim overcasting skies.
Clearing now as a harmony begins,
To find eyes brightening.
With a listening to voices heard.
And giving each one specific attention.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into The Last Month Of Winter
Into the last month of Winter and the wattles cloaked in yellow flowers in bloom
And pink flowers on the camellias and yellow flowers on the broom
And all through the night the white backed magpies sing
On the third week of August coming up to the Spring
On the third week of August in the Southern Hemisphere
One does have a sense that Spring is quite near
The paddocks and parklands are looking quite green
And fragile pink flowers on the fruit trees are seen
Into the third week of August and birds sing in the rain
And all through the night frogs sing in pond and drain
And in the calm of the night in the parkland nearby
The breeding spur wing plovers in their territory cry
And all through the night on the moonlit gum trees
The songs of the magpies carry in the breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lost Love, Never Found
So many times I have been asked,
"Are you alone on this moonlit night?
Do you live in solitude, never to open your eyes to the world?
Do you know of all those alive
Searching everyday for somebody to love and for
Somebody with whom to fall in love with? "
Someone to give you flowers,
To dine with or to hold in one's arms?
Are you alone on a rainy night, or
By yourself on a lovely spring day,
Taking each step you take in solitude,
With nobody to share your thoughts with-
How many years have you lived alone
With nobody to open your heart up to? "
These are the words and questions of many-
Also asking me how many times I have loved and lost-or
Have you loved and lost before in
Any given moment in time?
All I can do is to respond and say to that world out there continuously wondering is that
I am the queen of my own world; my eyes open to my own thoughts,
Alone in the world of my own imaginings and
Rejoicing every day and night to be
Alone in my own special castle- loving myself and
Being my own best and closest friend-
Solitude is a safe and pleasurable haven for me-
I am alone but never lonely- and if one is to ask me
"Have you ever been in love before and lost?
I can only respond- "I have never lost a love before, because in your eyes,
A love I have never found-but I have learned to be a friend and a loving companion to myself- I trust myself, value my talents and dance, sing and laugh everyday
With myself in solitude- I suppose I have loved before and do love now, as
I have become my own best and closest friend-
I have never loved and lost- because I adore my spirit for some time now and
I haven't had to search further than my own home and yard to find myself, and
It hasn't taken much time for me to come to the realization that
I can find flowers in my own back yard, and
Myself, I shall never lose…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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This Poem is Dedicated to Karen Carpenter....Nightengale of Our Times
She was an icon in her own time
She sang like a nightingale
With the sweetest of sounds
As it cascaded through the air
Her voice was more than anyone could say
She made you cry and laugh
As she sang her songs of old
The tunes and the melodies
That made me sing and dance
From one end of the house
To the other, singing, dancing
She inspired me to dance
She inspired me to sing
And her brother that wrote
The songs she sang
Inspired me to write
The rhymes and words
That I love so well
They worked as a team
They grew from strength to strength
And inspired so many to aspire
To be just like them
poem by Kaila George
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The Poet's Song
I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."
poem by Frederick George Scott
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This Old Guitar
This song appears on eight albums, and was first released on the back home again album, and has also been released on the greatest hits vol 2, favourites, the country roads collection and the ro
Ountain collection albums. live versions also appears on the an evening with john denver, country classics and the wildlife concert albums.
This old guitar taught me to sing a love song
It showed me how to laugh and how to cry
It introduced me to some friends of mine
And brightened up some days
It helped me make it through some lonely nights
Oh, what a friend to have on a cold and lonely night
This old guitar gave me my lovely lady
It opened up her eyes and ears to me
It brought us close together
I guess it broke her heart
It opened up the space for us to be
What a lovely place and a lovely space to be
This old guitar gave me my life my living
All the things you know I love to do
To serenade the stars that shine
From a sunny mountainside
Most of all to sing my songs for you
I love to sing my songs for you
Yes, I do, you know
I love to sing my songs for you
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birds Are Not Singing
it is nighttime
that is why
the moon is full
and the stars
are brighter as ever
the clouds are thin
as a quick brush of the
Chinese painter
the temple is empty
and the candles are turned off
by the wind from
the sea
the birds with their
dreams
do not sing
the usual sad songs
that you hear
now it is you who must
listen to the songs of
solitude
that silence that
dances
the classical ballet
that silence that anchors
the boat
by the side of
your lovely island
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Songs About Me
Songs About Me
Trace Adkins
I met a guy on a Red Eye, he spotted my guitar and said Whada you do?
I said I sing for a livin.Country music mixed with a little rock and a little blues.
He said Im sorry but Ive never been crazy bout that twang and trains and hillbilly things.
Whatever made you want to sing stuff like that?
I just looked at him and laughed and said.
Cause its songs about me
And who I am
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God
Yeah theyre all just songs about me
Songs about me
So I offered him tickets.I said Youll see what I mean if you show up tonight.
He said I doubt youll change my opinion .Ill be kinda busy but hey man, Ill try.
Then later on when we finished our songs about scars and cars and broken hearts,
I saw him, he was standing there right next to the stage and he shouted
Man you were right it was like you sang those
Songs about me and who I am
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God
Yeah theyre all just songs about me
Songs about me, yeah
So Ill just keep on singing til I hear the whole world singing.
Those are songs about me and who I am.
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God.
Yeah theyre all just songs about me.
Songs about me.
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songs About Me
Songs About Me
Trace Adkins
I met a guy on a Red Eye, he spotted my guitar and said Whada you do?
I said I sing for a livin.Country music mixed with a little rock and a little blues.
He said Im sorry but Ive never been crazy bout that twang and trains and hillbilly things.
Whatever made you want to sing stuff like that?
I just looked at him and laughed and said.
Cause its songs about me
And who I am
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God
Yeah theyre all just songs about me
Songs about me
So I offered him tickets.I said Youll see what I mean if you show up tonight.
He said I doubt youll change my opinion .Ill be kinda busy but hey man, Ill try.
Then later on when we finished our songs about scars and cars and broken hearts,
I saw him, he was standing there right next to the stage and he shouted
Man you were right it was like you sang those
Songs about me and who I am
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God
Yeah theyre all just songs about me
Songs about me, yeah
So Ill just keep on singing til I hear the whole world singing.
Those are songs about me and who I am.
Songs about lovin and livin and good hearted women, family and God.
Yeah theyre all just songs about me.
Songs about me.
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to the Plum Blossom
Wind and rain escorted Spring's departure,
Flying snow welcomes Spring's return.
On the ice-clad rock rising high and sheer
A flower blooms sweet and fair.
Sweet and fair, she craves not Spring for herself alone,
To be the harbinger of Spring she is content.
When the mountain flowers are in full bloom
She will smile mingling in their midst.
Outside the post-house, beside the broken bridge, Alone, deserted, a flower blooms.
Saddened by her solitude in the falling dusk,
She is now assailed by wind and rain.
Let other flowers be envious!
She craves not Spring for herself alone.
Her petals may be ground in the mud,
But her fragrance will endure.
poem by Mao Zedong
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I'll ask a Bluebird…
I'll ask a bluebird
To sing a summer song
Tones so lovely slurred
For life is coming along
Each day and night tender
Of love songs in the air
My thoughts to this surrender
In tunes of moments fair
I'll ask a thrush that plays
Its summer forest songs
Why each of them dallies
To a heart that longs
When breezy are the leaves
Of the wandering hour
With many thoughts of eves
For the meadow flower
Night of late shall come
To every summer singing
Growing on tincturing blossom
An end to their dreams bringing
For love shall fly away
Into another living wave
Where flowers in wind sway
With the new songs to crave
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Song of Wrongs
Some songs are trapped, while other songs are free
Some songs can linger, while others need a key
Some songs look Heavenward to find a place to be
While most songs have homes, some songs aren't so lucky
Which song would you rather hear
The song of hope, or the song of fear
The song that has everything, or the song that needs care
The song you care nothing for, or the song you revere
I'd like to listen to all of those forgotten songs
Not the song of rights, I want the song of wrongs
I want the song of solitude hiding in the throngs
I want the song that has no place to which it belongs
poem by Bianca Free
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