In my solitude of heart I feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled with mist and rain.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Lest not the night bereave in thine solitude
You sat with your solitude under the plenilune sky
And tell the shore to have a plangent sigh
Who was made by laws invisible to the eye
And be complaisant for you not to cry?
You tell the rain to pour?
To kiss your cheek and hide your tears at all
Do you believe that stars will close the canopy?
To give way to rain accordingly?
Thus your solitude found delight on refluence of tide?
blurted sounds with magic must abide?
Tell the moon that there's no ebbs of tide
The song it has you won't believe
Lest not the night bereave with thine solitude
if thy solitude won't compliment the dew
Though the night holds peaceful views
it follows a law, will you believe? Don't you believe it, Do you?
poem by Kristoffer Randolf Ramos
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In Solitude
A glass of red wine spent
Recalling life's events
Crowded in my skin
In Solitude
Relishing a melody of lament
Drifting through my window
Gliding in uninvited
In solitude
Last night I cried out loud
For the sake of hearing a sound
Though I did not hear me
In solitude
Gawking at my naked fear
Of living a life unseen
Yearning to belong
In solitude
I woke up in the evening
Read a book out loud
My voice wavering
In Solitude
As the heroine yearned
In an isolated crowd
To be loved
In solitude
I walked around naked
In my new home
My skin in flames
In solitude
Every molecule of air
Brushing against me
Scorched in vain
In solitude
It was raining that morn
When I came to life
My throat stinging
In solitude
I see no soul
I hear no breathing
I smell no skin
In solitude
I mourn not waking up
Next to my beloved
To warm my frozen hind
In solitude
Yet, I feel no cold
And life goes on
As I bury myself
In solitude
poem by Deva De Silva
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Scar On Your Left Arm...
the mirror is always a good metaphor
for solitude, on cold nights, the mist sticks
on the glass,
despite the coldness
in solitude
you sweat, there is heat inside you
warm body, groping hands,
the mirror faces you, blames you
and ask: where have you been
for all those years?
(sigh, emote, undress,
on uncut pubic hair, somehow you manage
an attitude of
purity)
i am here with you.
all these years.
i am. Faithful as a
rose tattoo.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A rich interior life with style
I would live in that sort of space
if would were could.
Instead, I take off my shoes at the door,
feel my bare toes on the polished woodwork,
settle into the chair, take out
the big square book entitled ‘Japanese Style’,
and with the contented sigh of one
who knows that solitude is
a status symbol in Japan,
give the body a rest, while the mind,
with its clever skills, no sweat,
as into a loose cotton robe,
feeling the air against the skin,
slips easily into two dimensions
contemplating three-dimensional space;
lives in these mindful geometries,
and feels a million yen;
goes to bed refreshed,
wondering whether waking up
a Japanese would be acceptable.
Maybe I’ll write a poem,
‘This quiet Spring evening
I sit in solitude
and love the unseen passers-by’
and take it to the calligrapher’s shop,
hang it outside the front door
for no-one to read
but all to see -
for in solitude, all is possible.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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We to Sigh Instead of Sing
"Rain and Rain! and rain and rain!"
Yesterday we muttered
Grimly as the grim refrain
That the thunders uttered:
All the heavens under cloud --
All the sunshine sleeping;
All the grasses limply bowed
With their weight of weeping.
Sigh and sigh! and sigh and sigh!
Never end of sighing;
Rain and rain for our reply --
Hopes half-drowned and dying;
Peering through the window-pane,
Naught but endless raining --
Endless sighing, and, as vain,
Endlessly conmplaining.
Shine and shine! and shine and shine!
Ah! to-day the splendor!--
All this glory yours and mine --
God! but God is tender!
We to sigh instead of sing,
Yesterday in sorrow,
While the lord was fashioning
This for our To-morrow!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Evening Rain
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
Like the day
Saw the same
All the problems
I follow
I run away
Saw the plane
The grey life
Tomorrow
But I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
But I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I close my eyes
It doesn't work
I can hear tomorrow
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go, Valentine
Go, Valentine, and tell that lovely maid
Whom fancy still will portray to my sight,
How here I linger in this sullen shade,
This dreary gloom of dull monastic night;
Say, that every joy of life remote
At evening's closing hour I quit the throng,
Listening in solitude the ring-dome's note,
Who pours like me her solitary song;
Say, that of her absence calls the sorrowing sigh;
Say, that of all her charms I love to speak,
In fancy feel the magic of her eye,
In fancy view the smile illume her cheek,
Court the lone hour when silence stills the grove,
And heave the sigh of memory and of love.
poem by Robert Southey
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Really Love The Rain
I really love the rain, I really love the rain,
cast your clouds, hide us from it all, wash away these stains
it's my gift, it's my present, I’d spend an hour walking in it's presence.
It's exactly how I feel man, it's exactly how I feel Ya...,
I really love the rain man…, I really love the rain ya....
I spent all day at work now I’ll spend all night in bed, so
I can get up and do it again cause, I really need that rent cause,
I really need that bread cause, I’m tired of going hungry. I’m
tired of needing help, I just want to live a moment for myself.
As selfish as that seems, I just really need that moment
so I can see my options clearly. So I hope the sky's not clearing,
cause I really love the rain man…
I really love the rain ya…, I really love the rain-
a little shower to calm my mind, a gentle mist and a slight
Breeze, bit of dew drips off the trees.
puddles form but not to your knees, no ones missing
no one bleeds. it's exactly how I feel man.., it's exactly how I feel
ya..., I really love the rain man…, I really love the rain ya...
For my anger there's a storm, let the lightning crash and burn.
There's my hatred, there's my rage, there's no way I could turn the page.
Stumbling in my clumsy ways, I’d probably set the book a blaze.
Let it rain oh, let it rain, show all my emotions, empty all my pain.
Man I really love the rain ya..., I really love the rain.
Its my drug it makes my day, like a pill I’d pop all day.
Run and jump and laugh and play, I’ll stay and dance don't go away.
Man I really love the rain ya..., I really love the rain.
Its my drug it makes my day, like a pill I’d pop all day.
I sit and cry and wonder why, who I am or why I’m here?
man this life just isn’t fair, but at least I have the rain.
it's exactly how I feel man..., it's exactly how I feel ya…,
I really love the rain man..., I really love the rain ya...,
poem by Charles Carrelli
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Last Answers
I wrote a poem on the mist
And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,
how pearl and gray of it mix and reel,
And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening
into points of mystery quivering with color.
I answered:
The whole world was mist once long ago and some day
it will all go back to mist,
Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers
Go running back to dust and mist.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Heart Solitude
I'to pass alone the cold night without tears*
Attempt for standing without love and try the feeling heart solitude*
I'passed my long night without word's*
without power*
Tried for to pass the current ocean of love that has bring me in heart solitude*
Tried for running to resist the current dark night that was impossible*
When the current attacked and made collapse my heart*
I'fall and sink in heart solitude*
Hoped received the warm hug*
Waiting the holy kiss*
I'passed my heart solitude*
Tried to erase my feel yearn that was impossible*
I'planted my longing too much in grounds my heart, and only will become wound in my heart**
Mad As The Mist And Snow
Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.
Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully's open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?
You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,
What makes me shudder so?
I shudder and I sigh to think
That even Cicero
And many-minded Homer were
Mad as the mist and snow.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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When The Rain Comes
Youve come to me again my friend. Ive been waiting so long.
Life seems strange and hard sometimes, maybe I wont make it this time.
Oh theyve taken all I have, but I just need whats left of today, and you can wash it all away.
When it all comes down and Im feeling tired and afraid,
Youre always there, and seem come when Ive nothing left to give away.
Now I wait for your winds to come and give me breath for another day, and your rain to wash me.
I feel the rain coming. I feel it in my heart, take away my pain.
I feel the rain coming. wash me down, wash me down.
Here comes the rain. hold me now, just for awhile.
I feel like a candle flame in the wind. the dust of my deeds past, covers me, like a fading lie.
I feel the rain coming. I feel it in my heart, wash away my pain.
Wash me down, wash me down. I feel the rain coming.
Here comes the rain.
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Solitude Of Prayer
In the solitude of prayer
deep
Lost in moments in between weep
and sleep
In the solitude of prayer
Lonliness finds a rest
Survived another test
Brings out our best
In the solitude of prayer
With nobody there
Except those far away
Reminded of their distant care
In the solitude of prayer
You pray for their smile
For their personal trial
Silently, all the while
In the solitude of prayer
Dreams seem more near
More hope than fear
Thoughts of those past those dear
In the solitude of prayer
Pray for their souls kind
Whose memory is still in your mind
And in your heart
In the solitude of prayer
Pray for your dear friends
Whose heart's you defend
As your own heart they mend
In the solitude of prayer
As for God's wisdom
And his love
As all love comes from above
In the solitude of prayer
Find grace to forgive
And to truely give
And to live
In the solitude of prayer
Recall how to dream
Of warm embraces of affection
And of love returned in your direction
In the solitude of prayer
Pray with conviction
Pray for the impossible
Without fear or restriction
poem by James T. Adair
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My Poem Came To Me In The Evening
MY POEM CAME TO ME IN THE EVENING/ AFTER THE RAIN AND EVENING PRAYER
My poem came to me in the evening
After the rain and evening prayer
When the sky opened up
For a moon and a star
And the winds diminished
And walking became a pure pleasure
And looking up a simple calm
Joy-
God giving me
Another gift
In a life in which there already have been so so many.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Like The Rain
Just like the rain,
That pours from the sky,
My love for you will never die.
Just like the rain,
That falls on the ground,
I will always be around.
Just like the rain,
That falls upon me,
I'm as happy as I could ever be.
Just like the rain,
With it's pure beauty,
It surely is a sight to see.
Just like the rain,
I can now see,
We were truly meant to be.
Just like the rain,
Sometimes warm and sometimes cold,
You make my heart, not break, but fold.
Just like the rain,
Beneath your feet,
Just come over here and take a seat.
Just like the rain,
Watch it with me,
So you can begin to see.
Just like the rain,
Who may always know,
That I need to stay, and never go.
Just like the rain,
Who knows what's in my heart,
It knows we should never be apart.
Just like the rain,
Please just stay,
And never go any day.
Just like the rain,
That descends from the sky,
Please, please just give me a try...
Just like the rain,
It doesn't last forever,
But it might if we're together.
Just like the rain,
I'm asking you,
When are you going to?
Just like the rain,
I cannot wait,
Until I'm finally in that place.
Just like the rain,
That's in that place in your heart,
When am I going to be that part?
Just like the rain,
That goes alone,
Am I going to turn into stone?
Just like the rain.
I'm waiting for you,
Waiting until you finally do.
Just like the rain,
That goes away,
Do you really want me to stay?
Just like the rain,
I want to know,
Should I stay or should I go?
Just like the rain,
Before that time is passed,
Why don't you just ask?
Just like the rain,
So mysterious to me,
You are just as much as thee.
Just like the rain,
I feel on my skin,
When will you let this relationship begin?
Just like the rain,
I cannot wait,
So come and ask me,
Before it's too late.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Heart On A Sleeve
Is there a place for the heart to hide?
I know that place can't be inside.
For I wear my heart right on my sleeve
and feel its sorrow, feel its heave.
The gasp and sigh in rhythm slow
is much too hollow in a rigid tempo.
It does not quicken. It does not race.
I feel as if its lost in space.
I've tried all I can to heal this heart
but I cannot mend what's torn apart.
The best I can hope for is time's release
so its continuous sigh will bring it peace.
There must be a place for the heart to hide.
And if there's not then mine will have died.
A fate worse than death will always be
the heart of a lover whose destiny
is loneliness.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Rain
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying to-night or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Blue Season
Snow in springtime, storm in the sea
Mist at my window, no leaf on my tree
Showers in the garden with no flowers to touch
When will you bring us your sunshine and such.
Season tell me true
Whats been wrong with you
Wont you turn again
Blow away the rain
Blue season, turn away.
Wind in the evening, dust in your eye
Heart full of shadow and cloud in your sky
Everythings wrong and you know youre to blame
Nothing will change while youre still the same
Cold in the city, tears on the street
Faces are empty in those that you meet
Lovers and losers who fail in the night
When will it be that youll treat them right.
Season tell me true
How much do we need you
Wont you turn your wheel
Hide your heart of steel
Blue season, turn away.
Countries and people caught in the rain
When will they learn to feel fine again
Wandering lost now for nothing is clear
Waiting for signs of the turn of the year.
Season tell me true
Whats been wrong with you
Wont you turn again
Blow away in the rain
Blue season, turn away.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sappho
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh
When the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
I sigh when night brings sleep to men.
Oh! it were far better to die
Than thus forever mourn and sigh,
And in death's dreamless sleep to be
Unconscious that none weep for me;
Eased from my weight of heaviness,
Forgetful of forgetfulness,
Resting from care and pain and sorrow
Thro' the long night that knows no morrow;
Living unloved, to die unknown,
Unwept, untended, and alone.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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My Solitude And Me
Sometimes I feel and that is true
I enjoy being alone like a dew
that stands quietly on the top
Of the edge of petal like a drop
I feel that my solitude and me
Are like the key that sets free
My soul from the troubles of heart
And show me a way to a brighter start
And that's why I think its good to be alone
And enjoy being seated in the solitude zone.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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