En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the words without the tune, and never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
and never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers -- that perches in the soul -- and sings the tune without words -- and never stops, at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul. And sings the tune Without the words, and never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!

Ogedengbe agbogungboro

1.A fearless warrior of great charisma,
men want to be him and women his lovers,
his bravery; an unsolved enigma,
a warrior that attacks better than a tiger,
his vision of d future brought succour
and hope to the villagers.

2.He cheated death in a miraculous way,
though death was filled with dismay
what could possibly kill him
if the beheading did not send him off to his grave,
Alas! all hope was lost for his attackers
where was hope? ...hope was in an antique cave.

3.A saviour for the ijeshas,
as the oracle had predicted,
hope it brought to the ijeshas,
a news that alleviates fear indeed from ifa.

4.Hope is that thing with feathers,
that perches in the soul,
and sings the tune without the words,
and never stops at all,
and sore must be the storm,
of the attackers on the ijeshas
that could abash ogedengbe agbogungboro
that kept so many warm,
but the hope he gave the ijeshas
was one to behold.

poem by Damian olatunde Ogedengbe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feather

feather
twirls, swirls,
dances
casting
a small theatre
in the air
before touching
the ground
then swept again
by the wind
sommersaults
slides
before taking
another trip
of its wayward dance
evoking hope
in this solitary trip i make
to be a poet
where i give myself up
to the world
trails with the wind
twirls, swirls,
sommersaults
with words
into every man's heart

inspired by:

Hope is the thing with feather —
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
Emily Dickinson

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Hope At It's Strongest

Hope is the thing that keeps us going
Hope is a poem without any words
Hope is what follows us everyday
Hope is the light that sparks our eyes

Hope that it will all get better
Hope that you will find love
Hope that people will be kind
Hope that you will stay alive

Hope is the strongest thing of all
Hope will allow us not to fall
Hope will rise against anything
Hope is like a fiery ring

Hope never stops
Hope is always there
Without it we would be lost
Without out it we would not care

poem by Laura Random
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Soul sings other’s poem

Soul sings other’s poem

When you don’t write one
It sings as if it is a dawn
In a tune of silence
Undresses unaware of around
Echoes to the strokes
As if it is climax…
Sings a song of rape
Unless you write one of Union….

Soul sings other’s poem

poem by Free Birds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Ode To Emily Dickinson

hope is the
thing with feathers

to be with onself
can be as productive
as any bird in the sky
as one mind is equipped
with wings that can fly
as far as it wishes to be

give it books, it can
fly to places where the feet
cannot take and beyond

beyond the mountain
where all the knowledge
ever harvested by minds
is logged
invisible and waiting
for minds to fly into them
to take them to places
where they should be

flying in everybody's mind

hope is the thing with feathers

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Captain Hook

She looks at me and my world stops
I've got to let her know
Before she has to go
And I hope she does confront me
Cause I might never find
The words I got in mind
And I don't know, no I don't know
What to say when I'm around you
I don't know just what to do
You must know the way I feel
By the way I'm acting, yeah
You know I'm so crazy
I'm so crazy about you
She tries to catch me, I wont stop
She grabs me by the hand
I knew she'd understand
And she kisses me and my heart stops
She asks me if I dance
I said I love the chance
But I don't know, no I don't know
What to say when I'm around you
I don't know just what to do
You must know the way I feel
By the way I'm acting, yeah
You know I'm so crazy
I'm so crazy about you
She tells me that I am the one she's been looking for
I only hope that it is true
And if I tell her that her image never leaves my mind
Will she say she loves me too
She looks at me and my world stops
I've got to let her know
Before she has to go
And I hope she does not confront me
Cause I might never find
The words I got in mind
And I don't know, no I don't know
What to say when I'm around you
I don't know just what to do, yeah
You must know the way I feel
By the way I'm acting, yeah
You know I'm so crazy
I'm so crazy about you

song performed by by Bowling For Soup
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Lights: Green, Yellow, Red

flashes of lightning
sounds of thunder
woman whirling around
the green light
man gazing at the red light
above him

feathers of red chicken
around her head
asking if i am strong enough
asking where i slept last night
asking if i shall finally walk away
from her
as she sings at the top of her voice
her cheeks red like cherry
her eyes teeming with tears
as she swirls around the green light
as the man
stops on the yellow light
still thinking
whether to go or not to go
to stay and be part of this
traffic of paranoia
psychedelic feelings
the last goodbye

as she sings whether
she will live or die
she swirls around the yellow light now
with a knife on her hand
her wrist still pale and her pulse
still beating

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Of Mere Being

The palm at the end of the mind,
Beyond the last thought, rises
In the bronze decor,

A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.

You know then that it is not the reason
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feathers shine.

The palm stands on the edge of space.
The wind moves slowly in the branches.
The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Sadness

O sadness
If I ever see you again
Near the mighty rock where the stream stops for a while,
Or along the path shadowed by the hillock!

If you sneak through the broken walls
Of my ancient cottage
During some silly night when the moon steals my dreams!

If you come through the sigh of a failed painter
That percolates through the petals he strikes;
Or with the shouts of the river
When the boatman strides on her!

If you come with a message of hope,
Which the faraway bird sings
Over the naked branches of that old tree!
I shall tell you the story
That I have kept secret
That I have filled with
The irrational behind the rational
And the words between the words.

If you ever come, o sadness!
I shall tell you my story of sadness!

poem by Pranab Sarma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

O Lord My God! - -Carl Boberg

O Lord my God!
When I in awesome wonder
consider all the worlds
Thy hands have made
I see the stars,
I hear the rolling thunder,
The power throughout the universe displayed

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the geltle breeze;

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in; -
That on the cross my burden gladly bearing,
He bled to take away my sin; -

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, My God, How great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

poem by Sangnam Nam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!