Rilke's First Duino Elegy, rewritten for Roxana Dyer
The First Duino Elegy of Rilke
Rewritten for Roxana Dyer
Who, if I screamed,
from the ranks of the angels would hear me then?
Even imagine one took me suddenly in his arms:
who I am would be lost in his greater Being.
So beauty was nothing
but the beginning of nightmare, from which we will scarcely awake;
we marvel at beauty, because in the end it has never bothered
to destroy us. Every angel message first brings us terror.
So with strong restraint I choke back the temptation
of agonized sobbing. Oh who then to turn to
in need? Not angels, not people,
and the animals hearing my pulse knew already
that I was not really settled
in this world we have named without knowledge.
Perhaps there waits for me a pohutukawa on a hillside,
that I can look at over and over; a country road from yesterday;
the unreasoning certainty of a childhood habit
that pleased me and stayed without interruption
in foreign lands.
Oh and the night, the night, when the wind screams from nowhere,
scratching us in the face...
For whom does She not wait, the desired and gently deceiving,
who stands disturbing before the solitary heart?
Is She kinder to the lovers in bed?
Oh they embrace, but only to hide all they have lost.
Still don't you see?
Throw open your arms that the emptiness
may pass out again into the spaces that we breathe.
Perhaps the air will seem further away to the birds
as they fly along paths the genes remember.
Oh yeah? you mean Spring came only for you;
the stars waited till you noticed them;
a wave rose in the past for you; a violin,
as you walked past a window, rang out for you.
That was all because of you?
But were you strong enough to bear it?
Weren't you always still driven crazy
by waiting, as if every moment would bring you news
of her loss? (Where will you hide her grey eyes,
as the huge new thought strangers go in and out
of your mind, and often stay the night?)
You feel longing, so sing more songs of the lovers
whose famous emotions are not yet immortal enough.
Each of the abandoned heroines you almost envied,
for you thought them so much more loving
than those whose call was answered.
Begin ever anew to praise the mark beyond reach.
Think: the hero lives on, even his end
was only for him a new page of his story,
his latest reincarnation.
But Nature when she's done
takes back the beloved, as if
there was no more strength to renew her.
Did we sing enough the sad sonnets
of Gaspara Stampa, intensifying lost love?
Every girl says, “If only I could love like her! ”
Shouldn’t her old sufferings have borne more fruit?
Is it not time we release lover from loved one,
shaken, to move on, as the arrow that feels the string
released gathers to fly and is more than it was.
Voices, voices! Listen, my heart, as else only
holy men listened, that vast good news lift them
from earth; but they kneeled, inhuman,
on and on, and paid no attention.
That’s how they listened. You cannot bear
the burden of God’s voice - far from it.
Just listen to the soft lament,
the uninterrupted report that rises in silence.
It rustles now towards you in the lilt of her song.
Wherever you stepped inside to pray,
did it not quietly tell you she’s gone?
The plaques on the walls, did they not claim
your attention? What did they ask? That gently
you should untie the knot of injustice, no longer
hamper the flowing motion of those departed.
I guess it is strange no longer to live on this earth,
no longer to need habits just learned,
not to grant roses and other meaningful things
the interpretation of man’s tomorrow,
no longer to be that which one used to
in tirelessly anxious hands, even to get rid
of one’s own name, like a broken toy.
Strange no longer to wish wishes,
strange, to see all that moved or was moved
flutter free in space.
Being dead is a nuisance,
full of errands just to track down
some small eternity.
Being alive is to make mistakes,
distinctions too bold.
Angels, they say, often can’t tell which
they visit, dead or alive.
Related quotes
Elegy I
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
Oh, to whom can we turn for help?
Not angels, not humans;
and even the knowing animals are aware that we feel
little secure and at home in our interpreted world.
There remains perhaps some tree on a hillside
daily for us to see; yesterday's street remains for us
stayed, moved in with us and showed no signs of leaving.
Oh, and the night, the night, when the wind
full of cosmic space invades our frightened faces.
Whom would it not remain for -that longed-after,
gently disenchanting night, painfully there for the
solitary heart to achieve? Is it easier for lovers?
Don't you know yet ? Fling out of your arms the
emptiness into the spaces we breath -perhaps the birds
will feel the expanded air in their more ferven flight.
Yes, the springtime were in need of you. Often a star
waited for you to espy it and sense its light.
A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past,
or as you walked below an open window,
a violin gave itself to your hearing.
All this was trust. But could you manage it?
Were you not always distraught by expectation,
as if all this were announcing the arrival
of a beloved? (Where would you find a place
to hide her, with all your great strange thoughts
coming and going and often staying for the night.)
When longing overcomes you, sing of women in love;
for their famous passion is far from immortal enough.
Those whom you almost envy, the abandoned and
desolate ones, whom you found so much more loving
than those gratified. Begin ever new again
the praise you cannot attain; remember:
the hero lives on and survives; even his downfall
was for him only a pretext for achieving
his final birth. But nature, exhausted, takes lovers
back into itself, as if such creative forces could never be
achieved a second time.
Have you thought of Gaspara Stampa sufficiently:
that any girl abandoned by her lover may feel
from that far intenser example of loving:
"Ah, might I become like her!" Should not their oldest
sufferings finally become more fruitful for us?
Is it not time that lovingly we freed ourselves
from the beloved and, quivering, endured:
as the arrow endures the bow-string's tension,
and in this tense release becomes more than itself.
For staying is nowhere.
Voices, voices. Listen my heart, as only saints
have listened: until the gigantic call lifted them
clear off the ground. Yet they went on, impossibly,
kneeling, completely unawares: so intense was
their listening. Not that you could endure
the voice of God -far from it! But listen
to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message
that forms itself out of silence. They sweep
toward you now from those who died young.
Whenever they entered a church in Rome or Naples,
did not their fate quietly speak to you as recently
as the tablet did in Santa Maria Formosa?
What do they want of me? to quietly remove
the appearance of suffered injustice that,
at times, hinders a little their spirits from
freely proceeding onward.
Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,
to no longer use skills on had barely time to acquire;
not to observe roses and other things that promised
so much in terms of a human future, no longer
to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands;
to even discard one's own name as easily as a child
abandons a broken toy.
Strange, not to desire to continue wishing one's wishes.
Strange to notice all that was related, fluttering
so loosely in space. And being dead is hard work
and full of retrieving before one can gradually feel a
trace of eternity. -Yes, but the liviing make
the mistake of drawing too sharp a distinction.
Angels (they say) are often unable to distinguish
between moving among the living or the dead.
The eternal torrent whirls all ages along with it,
through both realms forever, and their voices are lost in
its thunderous roar.
In the end the early departed have no longer
need of us. One is gently weaned from things
of this world as a child outgrows the need
of its mother's breast. But we who have need
of those great mysteries, we for whom grief is
so often the source of spiritual growth,
could we exist without them?
Is the legend vain that tells of music's beginning
in the midst of the mourning for Linos?
the daring first sounds of song piercing
the barren numbness, and how in that stunned space
an almost godlike youth suddenly left forever,
and the emptiness felt for the first time
those harmonious vibrations which now enrapture
and comfort and help us.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duino Elegies: The First Elegy
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
Oh, to whom can we turn for help?
Not angels, not humans;
and even the knowing animals are aware that we feel
little secure and at home in our interpreted world.
There remains perhaps some tree on a hillside
daily for us to see; yesterday's street remains for us
stayed, moved in with us and showed no signs of leaving.
Oh, and the night, the night, when the wind
full of cosmic space invades our frightened faces.
Whom would it not remain for -that longed-after,
gently disenchanting night, painfully there for the
solitary heart to achieve? Is it easier for lovers?
Don't you know yet ? Fling out of your arms the
emptiness into the spaces we breath -perhaps the birds
will feel the expanded air in their more ferven flight.
Yes, the springtime were in need of you. Often a star
waited for you to espy it and sense its light.
A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past,
or as you walked below an open window,
a violin gave itself to your hearing.
All this was trust. But could you manage it?
Were you not always distraught by expectation,
as if all this were announcing the arrival
of a beloved? (Where would you find a place
to hide her, with all your great strange thoughts
coming and going and often staying for the night.)
When longing overcomes you, sing of women in love;
for their famous passion is far from immortal enough.
Those whom you almost envy, the abandoned and
desolate ones, whom you found so much more loving
than those gratified. Begin ever new again
the praise you cannot attain; remember:
the hero lives on and survives; even his downfall
was for him only a pretext for achieving
his final birth. But nature, exhausted, takes lovers
back into itself, as if such creative forces could never be
achieved a second time.
Have you thought of Gaspara Stampa sufficiently:
that any girl abandoned by her lover may feel
from that far intenser example of loving:
"Ah, might I become like her!" Should not their oldest
sufferings finally become more fruitful for us?
Is it not time that lovingly we freed ourselves
from the beloved and, quivering, endured:
as the arrow endures the bow-string's tension,
and in this tense release becomes more than itself.
For staying is nowhere.
Voices, voices. Listen my heart, as only saints
have listened: until the gigantic call lifted them
clear off the ground. Yet they went on, impossibly,
kneeling, completely unawares: so intense was
their listening. Not that you could endure
the voice of God -far from it! But listen
to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message
that forms itself out of silence. They sweep
toward you now from those who died young.
Whenever they entered a church in Rome or Naples,
did not their fate quietly speak to you as recently
as the tablet did in Santa Maria Formosa?
What do they want of me? to quietly remove
the appearance of suffered injustice that,
at times, hinders a little their spirits from
freely proceeding onward.
Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,
to no longer use skills on had barely time to acquire;
not to observe roses and other things that promised
so much in terms of a human future, no longer
to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands;
to even discard one's own name as easily as a child
abandons a broken toy.
Strange, not to desire to continue wishing one's wishes.
Strange to notice all that was related, fluttering
so loosely in space. And being dead is hard work
and full of retrieving before one can gradually feel a
trace of eternity. -Yes, but the liviing make
the mistake of drawing too sharp a distinction.
Angels (they say) are often unable to distinguish
between moving among the living or the dead.
The eternal torrent whirls all ages along with it,
through both realms forever, and their voices are lost in
its thunderous roar.
In the end the early departed have no longer
need of us. One is gently weaned from things
of this world as a child outgrows the need
of its mother's breast. But we who have need
of those great mysteries, we for whom grief is
so often the source of spiritual growth,
could we exist without them?
Is the legend vain that tells of music's beginning
in the midst of the mourning for Linos?
the daring first sounds of song piercing
the barren numbness, and how in that stunned space
an almost godlike youth suddenly left forever,
and the emptiness felt for the first time
those harmonious vibrations which now enrapture
and comfort and help us.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rilke: Duino Elegies
Duino Elegies
First Elegy
Oh on earth if we cry out,
And in heaven, which angle would respond?
Even if there is one to embrace us, still we would shiver,
For how can we survive in front of his mighty existence?
Oh, beauty is merely our first encounter of terror,
When we can still bear and adore its awesomeness,
That it disdains to wipe out all of us.
For every angle is terrifying.
So we must swallow our own dark sobbing.
But to whom we can ask for help?
Not angels, not people, and the animals?
But the cunning animals have already figured out
That we are not at home,
And what’s left, only the trees,
On the hillside they stand, and we pass by them daily.
Such loyal presence becomes some habits,
That gives us pleasures so we can move on and about.
And the night, o yeah, at night,
When the wind gushing from outer space and licking our faces-
Oh, for whom she would not wait?
This mildly disappointed lady with so much effort,
And her lonely heart has to bear for all her desires.
But is it much easier for lovers?
Ah, we are only trying to manage by staying together,
And hoping that we can somehow survive the conclusion of our fate.
Can we comprehend this?
For we only throw our arms into the empty air
Trying to embrace what we breathe day by day-
Maybe only the birds can feel the airflow
And flip their wings with more passions.
.......
(Rainer Maria Rilke/I incorrectly edited it the way I like, that I feel it is much easier for me to memorize)
poem by Laijon Liu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Angels
There was a time in my life
I just closed my eyes
days I couldn't look back
at the memories faded in my mind
wandering down this lonesome track
with two Angels here by my side
showing me where I had to go
These wounds that would never heal
lost pictures of you I never could find
they seem to still haunt me
stuck here in what now is reality
I can no longer feel
with two Angels here by my side
showing me the things I needed to know
Sitting in some empty motel room
staring out the window
into the silence of the night
thinking about what I left behind
some things you just can't hide
trying to make it right
with a heart full of gloom
two Angels to guide my way
remembering words you would never say
Lovers left in a masquerade
broken promises we never made
knowing neither one could stay
as we both just turn and walk away
in a world that never dies
two Angels try to fly
(spiritwind-2005)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Where Angels Sing
This song was dedicated to valeria m.
Meet me downtown on the corner.
Ill be waiting in a big yellow cab.
Dont bring a suitcase.
You wont need a thing.
Therell be no worries.
Where angels sing.
I got my ticket in my hand.
Oh, the price is paid in full.
No man can stop me.
Their words wont sting you.
No dreams will haunt you.
Where angels sing.
I get so weary.
On this troubled road.
Unlock these chains.
And gently rock me home.
Beyond the clouds and the rain
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
Where lies cant hurt you.
The flesh desert me.
No in or out.
No loss or doubt.
No living with or doing without.
Where money aint the power king.
And kindness is the most precious thing.
Where angels sing.
Oh, where angels sing.
Where time means nothing.
No hustle.
No one rushing.
No dark of night.
No hate or spite.
No wrong or right.
No day or night.
No towns or no cities.
Theres no pain, no pity.
Where hunger is no longer.
And a good man just gets stronger.
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
Where angels sing.
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovers
Sit down and listen 'cause I've got good news for you
It was in the papers today
Some physician had made a discovery
This' what she had to say:
(Oooh you know that)
She said that every result she had backed her
Claiming that love's a longevity factor
So lovers live a little longer, baby
You and me, we got a chance to live twice
Lovers live a little longer, ain't that nice
Lovers live a little longer, baby
What a feeling when I hold you tight
Lovers live a little longer, yeah
I can imagine, I'll see in my fantasy
I'll enjoy every day
Making love is a dynamite drug, baby
So why don't we start right away
(Ahh, please don't wait)
I don't care if they're watching 'cause listen
We've got a reason for each time we're kissing
'Cause lovers live a little longer, baby
You and me, we got a chance to live twice
Lovers live a little longer, ain't that nice
Lovers live a little longer, baby
What a feeling when I hold you tight
Lovers live a little longer, yeah
I just don't care if they're watching 'cause listen
We've got a reason for each time we're kissing
'Cause lovers live a little longer, baby
You and me, we got a chance to live twice
Lovers live a little longer, ain't that nice
Lovers live a little longer, baby
What a feeling when I hold you tight
Lovers live a little longer, yeah
Lovers live a little longer, baby
You and me, we got a chance to live twice
Lovers live a little longer, yeah
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Swan Song
A vision of perfection, I must stare
Your arms, legs, your body, and your hair
With you I can find happiness
You are the one I want to caress
So it was written and so it must be told
It is you I want to have and to hold
At my window sat a single turtle dove
For I don’t want to live without your love
It rains all day since you are not here
My mind is in a daze no longer I see clear
On you all the money I would spend
I love you too much to ever be your friend
Your voice seems to mess up my brain
But I can’t wait to hear it again
I love all the things that you do
That is why I can’t wait to hear from you
Good morning sadness, please go away
Times I wonder how I make through the day
Please tell me how can I release the pain?
Knowing you’ll never come home again
I’m dieing inside without you here
I hunger for your love but do you even care
Loves fire I’m still burning
For your love I’m still yearning
My heart has been wounded very badly
But my life to you I would give gladly
My joy has gone I’m in a constant sad mood
Left behind to live a life of solitude
I gave you my best, I gave you my all
On my knees for you I would crawl
My love comes in all different kinds
But for you I would have died a thousand times
From God’s grace I fell
Pain and sorrow I know them well
I can’t sleep at night any more
Heart ache is my sickness and love’s the cure
I thought that you were special that certain kind
Now crazy thoughts run thru my mind
Dark as the night, cold as the winters
Closed the door, no love longer enters
Words them to sway you I can’t find
Cause you have left me so far behind
No one loves me, no one really cares
When you look back will I still be there
I hear the angels, I hear there call
Saying it’s better to have loved than not at all
From your love I will never recover
For you have been my one and only lover
My love freely I can never give away
I will always love you till the end of day
Darkness surrounds me now that you’re gone
Night cometh no longer the dawn
Pushed aside I’m no longer strong
For in your arms I truly belong
Remember the one that loved you no matter how you look
For my heart and soul is what you took
Young and innocent they have not a clue
So punish me but them too
Foolish is the man that thinks of no other
See the signs and remember the father
What you give is what you’ll get
For what you do one day you will regret
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Place Of My Dreams
Nobody ever walked this path before
-before trees grew here nearly touching the sky,
I am alone safely inside a world of my own-
A world where only deer roam and birds fly about-
Cardinals, robins and sometimes
I believed I saw angels-
Angels singing in harmony with bird songs-
The wind would rustle the leaves upon the trees and
In the early summertime, cicadas would sing incessantly-
Incessantly and melodiously-
Only one day I heard a different sound-
The sounds of footsteps and children screaming,
Following closely behind me-
I would hide behind a tall oak tree and I would almost weep as
My solitude has been interrupted and
I am no longer safe as my private world had been invaded-
Nobody ever walked this path before until this day and
My dream has been transformed to a nightmare-
I am not safe in a world destroyed by the presence of strangers-
Cardinals, robins and cicadas are my friends and
Other people are my enemies whom I do not trust-
Following in my footsteps and trying to make eye contact,
To read the verses of the songs my mind composes?
I know I have seen angels and heard them singing, and
Birds chanting along with the gentle winds
Rustling the leaves upon the trees-
But now other people have discovered the path,
upon which I have walked alone,
And my secure space has become a public tenement-
I once believed nobody ever walked this path before,
This path to which I could escape reality and lose myself inside
The magnificent world of my delusions-now they have come to take me away and
To lock me inside this prison which I cannot escape?
I cannot hear the angels singing here and birds are seemingly far away-
Here I have lost myself inside my own world,
one so different and so frightening?
There are people here, so close to me, yet I feel so alone-
Although alone in a dangerous way- I am singing my own song,
Hoping that the angels can hear me and one day I shall be back in unison with nature,
Far away from intruders and singing in harmony with nightingales –
And once again, alone safely,
as I shall have abandoned the nightmare of reality,
Touching the sky in my dreams, dancing with angels as I listen to the cicadas chanting
Happily as they are lost inside the world of their fantasies, just as I wish to be…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears For The Dying (d0 You Remember)
“Do you remember? ”
I have come to realize that you don’t have a clue
You have not a clue to why I’ve stopped talking to you
It is simply for I have no choice
The pain is too great when I hear your voice
Inside the hunger and the pain is killing me
Knowing you and I will never more be
The mails you write brings me grief
For the hurt there is just no relief
Without you life is too unfulfilling
Distancing now myself I am now willing
Please to these words do not deserve responding
For I cannot stand the thought of us never belonging
This morning I awoke in tears
For me now no one cares
Me lying with arms open wide
Dreaming you were by my side
Reaching out to give you an embrace
But you vanished without even a trace
No longer now can I kiss your face
Between us now such distance and too much space
Sadden eyes dies lacking an opinion
Chances gone now of any chanced reunion
So I try to hide the pain that’s calling
But the tears I cry descends like hurricanes falling
Wishing you were here with me
For all I have now are memories
Thoughts of the time we once shared
Thoughts of the times you once cared
Two birds of the same feather thoughts of us being
Visions of you were all I was ever seeing
How you have forgotten how I stayed with you in the hospital all night
You have forgotten how I held your hands till the morning light
You have forgotten how I prayed that you would feel better
You have forgotten how my love would stand all inclement weather
You have forgotten how to me you were my one and only treasure
Remember how by your side I stayed
Remember how it matter not to me how much you weighted
Remember how I said I loved you the way you are
Remember how I said you were my shining star
Remember how I said you’re beautiful with or without glasses
Remember I attended with you all the lama’s classes
Remember me sitting by you and my reaction
Remember me coaching you through each contraction
Remember me staying up until you gave birth
Remember me saying you were the greatest on earth
Remember how hard it was to take our child’s first picture
Remember thinking in our lives a child being a fixture
Remember the days of laughter and fun
Remember the days when our lives had just begun
Remember the days of you loving me and me loving you
Remember the days do you?
Remember the time I chased you around the house
Remember the time when you were my spouse
Remember the days for I remember them all
From your grace was such a great distance to fall
I remember how you made me feel ten foot tall
I remember being in your arms feeling so small
I remember the time when it was just you and I
Do you remember the tears I have cried?
Do you remember how worried I was the night you didn’t call?
Do you remember me saying you were my all?
Do you remember driving to the mall to escape the summer’s heat?
Do you remember when we thought life was so sweet?
Do you remember how I would defend you till the better end?
Do you remember being more than just a lover for you were my best friend?
Do you remember anything at all?
Goodbye to sweet memories
Birds in the trees no longer sing for thee
The sun no longer shines for me
The moonlight shines now for other lovers
Nothing left in this world to discover
You have gone and moved on
So must I for I have to try
But for now inside I die
So to my first true love and friend goodbye
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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A Song For All Lovers
This song was first released on the the wildlife concert album. it is the only album it has been released on.
I see them dancing somewhere in the moonlight
Somewhere in alaska, somewhere in the sun
I hear them singing a song for all lovers
A song for the two hearts beating only as one
Imagine the morning no longer alone
The arms of another, a place to belong
No longer the struggle, no longer the night
And ever becoming in the quickening light
To see the darkness, to listen within
To answer in kindness, to ever begin
To ever be gentle, to always be strong
To walk in the wonder, to live in the song
In a place of enchantment where the wild things are known
Will the future remember when the lovers are gone?
And I see them dancing somewhere in the moonlight
Somewhere in alaska, somewhere in the sun
I hear them singing a song for all lovers
A song for the two hearts beating only as one
A song for the two hearts beating only as one
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone Is The Light
Every day I wake in my lonely bed
How I wish that I was dead
No more left to be said
A great burden I carry on my head
All I do is question why
No longer pointing my head to the sky
No more wind is in my sail
Nothing more I can fail
I have lost my only friend
In love I fall never again
It is sad but yet so true
Nothing left for me to do
Into the night I'll fade away
For me there's just no more day
All is left is the night
Gone tomorrow the sun light
Darkness surrounds everywhere
Gray are my skies since she's not here
Turned his back no longer I sleep
For my soul no one will keep
As winter’s chill cometh the dawn
Lost all my senses since she’s gone
The darkness cry’s out my name
Hard I find to live down the shame
No longer can I conceal my sorrow
Why must there be a tomorrow
No more comes a brighter day
It just won’t seem to go away
This is a first for me to be alone
I've never been on my own
Gone are the days of my happiness
All is left is pure sadness
No one left to kiss and caress
No longer do I have someone to impress
The darkness I now embrace
For I have fallen on my face
No more to rise it’s the end
For I’ve lost my best friend
That voice I no longer hear
For she’s no longer here
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Horror Of The War
Of night How long time it has been you and me were best friends
I can't imagine even you've changed your face
How long time every day wiped away my pain
But last night even you became a strange
Oh night you were my best friend
Even you became so cruel how strange
What's wrong the world all have changed
Ah world humanity from you is lost how a unbearable reality
The horror of the dreary war surrounding everywhere rendering sullen vain strain
Everywhere the sounds of the bombs
The mortality voice of war is shouting through the darkness of the night covering. All around
Oh night what a horror I can't bear all this pain the ugly sound of the guns and bombs what's wrong with the world
The voices of bombs through the gloomy night are destroying me inside
The echoes of terrible woes of the war are gazing at the dark like a devil
Everywhere no sign of life
No sign of humanity at the darkness is lost
What a unbearable heart pain the world is lost
I heard her voice at the dark
She was there all alone
All her lover ones have had gone
At the darkness through the ugly silent of the might
I heard her voice she were there all alone
Has she lost her mind she was crying and talking with her dead mother what a unbearable heartache
She was calling everyone looking for help
Oh poor girl humanity is dead even her father refused to come there
And told her just wait till the morning ill be there
What a world I can't bear living all these heartache
I know tomorrow will be so late
Just praying for her to be found when tomorrow comes
Oh god you may help her to stay alive
Oh you night even you changed your face
I know after today nothing will be the same even our friendship is dead.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old High School Song
we used to sing:
'it seems we stood and talked like this before, the smile you were smiling
you were smiling there
but i can't remember where or when
some things that happen for the first time
seems to be happening again........'
sing it again, sing it again for me, i know you remember the song
from your heart where ever you are
many, many years ago, inside that old spanish church
we sang that song, we were not that far away,
i was the tenor then, and you were the alto
and our music teacher was so elated that
he closed his eyes, walked a little distance and listened so well
and he said we are singing like angels tha t his heart melted
on that warmest day
look at us now, tell me if you want to go back, so we will sing again
that same old song
the music teacher is still alive and he perhaps he wants to listen again
and be back on that glorious moment
of our youth
his apex too
tell me if you want to go back,
we will put on the same costumes of innocence
and sing the songs with all our open hearts
oh, how i wish to be inside that church again and be with you
alas!
you are too far away like the most distant star that i want to see even on
a stormy night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Barren Land
As I walked upon a barren land
I saw pain and destruction from man's hand
What once was alive, no longer did thrive
And what once had stood no longer did stand.
Everywhere that I looked, I saw only death
With no pain, or remorse, or even regret.
GOD must had surely forgotten this place
As all that I felt and saw was hate and waste
No birds were flying, and angels were crying
Faith and hope must of left here in a haste.
I looked and I thought, I tried to care
But I didn't, so I cursed, I did not say a prayer
I began to hear voices as I walked
They started out as whispers then they talked
Persons were nowhere, voices were everywhere
I was being asked to 'not forget' as I was stalked.
Forget what? I then thought to myself
Were the voices from heaven, or were they from hell.
I looked at my hands they were now covered with blood
The boots that I am wearing are now covered with mud
Then I tried to recall, any memories at all
Then they rush back to my mind like a ravenous flood.
I was a soldier, and I fought in a war that day
But I was dead, and I forgot, and to eternity I had lost my way.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Phenomenon of Love
It's now time to say goodbye and bid each other farewell
we may yet see one another again perhaps, who can tell?
The paths of our life often cross over familiar ground
and so in the days of our lives those memories hound.
How sweet life seems when everything goes well
but when misfortune strikes it becomes like hell.
The experience of life always has an opposite side
and things we once valued most no longer provide.
When we turn our back to love the heart inside us does shrink
and the vacuum created there will cause many to reach a brink.
In certain matters of love we're all found to be a little wanting
but then the true object of all our love is the most demanding.
If love comes our way the world seems full of joy
and each moment feels as if it's a wonderful ploy.
The grace of love is quite blissful while it does last
and the pleasure of the beloved is the main repast.
Everyone in the world has at least one tale of love to recite
regardless even of their situation and any condition despite.
Whether it be one of woe that only brings sadness to the heart
or one that's joyful relating of lovers who are no longer apart.
The phenomenon of love is the story of an ever ongoing human saga
with a broken or joyous heart many people sing about as their raga.
Its consumation lies in the fulfilment of love with lover and beloved
and the glory of this end only those brave enough have discovered.
š›š›š›š›š›š›š›
poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When We Dance
If he loved you
Like I love you
I would walk away in shame
I'd move town
I'd change my name
When he watches you
When he counts to buy your soul
On your hand his golden rings
Like he owns a bird that sings
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
The priest has said my soul's salvation
Is in the balance of the angels
And underneath the wheels of passion
I keep the faith in my fashion
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
I'm still in love with you
[I'm gonna find a place to live
Give you all I've got to give]
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
If I could break down these walls
And shout my name at heaven's gate
I'd take these hands
And I'd destroy the dark machineries of fate
Cathedrals are broken
Heaven's no longer above
And hellfire's a promise away
I'd still be saying
I'm still in love
He won't love you
Like I love you
He won't care for you this way
He'll mistreat you if you stay
Come and live with me
We'll have children of our own
I would love you more than life
If you'll come and be my wife
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings
I'm gonna love you more than life
If you will only be my wife
I'm gonna love you more than life
If you will only be my wife
I'm gonna love you night and day
I'm gonna try in every way
[I had a dream last night
I dreamt you were by my side
Walking with me baby
My heart was filled with pride
I had a dream last night]
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voices Cryin Out
Voices cryin out, voices cryin out
Voices cryin out in the night hear them call
Voices cryin out hear them call
Its a night
Like no other night
Its a day
Almost turning grey
Its a heart
Like a broken heart
Its a wheel
At the end of day
Its the plight
Of a boy whos scared
Of the waves rushing out
And the wind in the air
Its the sight
Of one longing to taste
Of life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Visions that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Its a song
Of a love unsung
Its the pain
Of just being young
Its a cry
Of a voice unheard
Of a face
Speaking silent words
Its the hope
That the time goes by
Take you upon a wing
Teach your soul to fly
Its a wish
That youll live your experience life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Oh do you know how it feels to be free
Walking your path of life
Embracing destiny one day at a time
Voices cryin out...oh cant you hear them
Voices cryin out...listen please, listen to the future
Voices cryin out...millions and millions and millions of voices
Voices cryin out...oh oh oh oh
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saddest Poem
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tonight I Can Write
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
translated by W.S. Merwin
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk of a stream (from the mad man's song)
A few drops of ink were trying to flow out into a blend of black and white...
A few waves of music were trying to reach to their strings, , ,
to write and sing of emptiness, a little mine and a little yours...
In what is no longer, seeking a place I walk and then I meet mine...
In your flight you try to make a litlle of the sky yours..
then you meet thine....
A few drops of ink dried..
A few wings of failed flight...
Thus of our emptiness we wrote and sang...
Life has often told to me its strange tales..
Sometimes it has called me by my name..
sometimes it has made me meet my soul...
One day though it walked in and halted my travel of the day..
So there I had to stay...
I realised only on nightfall just above was moon to appear
So was I made to stay...
life has often told to me its strange tales...
When someday you would realise after time has but gone away long,
that you should not have departed, and then decide to return
to the place you left....
You may not find me waiting for you, , ,
Deep beneath the bosom of the sands of desert
walks a stream...
seeking the thirst of the wanderer
and in a oasis they meet...
Longer the thirst has traveled with the wanderer,
stronger shall be the bliss of the meeting...
We shall someday meet, some day other..........
A rainbow is neither lost nor formed...
Its that some day seven colors meet and they are indigo, ,
other day just seven strangers....
When into sunset, evening plays its flute, , ,
and shadows of memories past and dreams of times to come
start to hide and seek among the woods of your heart....
fall in love with the way the sun welcomes the night
For the route to red petals walk through the charm of thorns...
and if unpricked you were to walk
You would reach but faded rose, dead with time...
Melody may be the music of the ocean, sea or river bear...
distance may be the dreams of the water of their...
Drops but must love the walk of a stream...