I think of other ages that floated upon the stream of life and love and death and are forgotten, and I feel the freedom of passing away.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Freedom's Theme
What is the theme of freedom?
Life,
Love,
Happiness,
Contentment.
Is this so?
Can freedom be these,
Our best,
The good things in life?
Or is freedom more?
Is freedom the blood with which it is bought?
Is freedom the evils which our men have suffered
To bring it to us?
Freedom's theme,
Sung through the ages,
Is sacrifice,
And pain,
For happiness dearly bought.
Freedom's theme
Is a hymn of praise
To the God who smiled on us,
And gave us America.
Freedom's theme
Is life, earned by death.
It is love, in power,
Spurned by the hate of the centuries.
It is contentment, with the shouts of thanksgiving,
For all God has blessed us with.
Freedom's theme-
Praise, joy, love,
Should be the song on our tongues always:
Thanksgiving to God for this privilege,
Dearly bought.
poem by James Grengs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom From Love.........................
Freedom to love again.
Freedom to try love again without thinking
about the past.
Freedom to think without worry.
Freedom to dance to my
new found love..
Freedom to feel the touch of another man
heart and soul.
Freedom to forget the past.
Freedom to cry without any sorrow......
Freedom to walk with out trials and
trubulations...
Freedom to be along and think
in peace.
Freedom to start a new life feel with love
again...
Thank you for freedom......................
poem by Jessica Mason
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absolute Freedom
Freedom from within
Freedom to think beyond universe
Freedom from living up to other ideas or expectations
Freedom to stand against all odds
Freedom from gods will
Freedom from triumph and disaster
Freedom from democracy and aristocracy
Freedom from scams and scandals
Freedom from caste, creed and color
Freedom from meaning less dogma
Freedom from fear and hatred
Freedom from life and death
poem by Sunnieyd Inquilab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loneliness Of Ages
The loneliness of ages
Ages and ages
Has come to visit me
In the darkness of the night
I even cannot remember you
Today I want all my relations
Today I want to make friends
With the rest of the world
That I had forgotten
In the saga of your love
Today I want to tell them
That love it never was
And that the fiction was not real
Today I want to be with friends
I am turning back to life
To return once again to you
1/11/2008
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over Our Heads
I don't think you love me
Confusion settling in
I don't think I'll be staying
Around here, anymore
There's no question that I love you
But I'm living in my own time
And here I am debating
Whether I'm wrong, or right
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
All the promises I gave you
Helped me to survive
And all the times I wished you'd save me
You were the love of my life
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
I'm only passing by ...
song performed by by Zero 7
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extension 33
Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stream Of Life
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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LXIX
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of
leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and
of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali (1912)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stepping out of the shadows..
Stepping out of the shadows to feel the warmth of the light.
To come to an understanding of leaving a lose/lose situation,
and yet feel victorious.
The heart slowing down... thoughts are getting focused. To only
understand the true love I have is called freedom.
The freedom to walk around without stumbling.
The freedom to feel the wind in my face.
The freedom to think about my short past, and my long future.
The freedom to enjoy my life with a view of clarity.
The freedom to count the milage on my long motorcycle rides.
The freedom to count on my friends and never fear.
The freedom to understand some peoples mistakes.
The freedom to walk away and never worry.
Into the light I walk..a new vision.. a new life.
poem by Nathan Charles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Louis' Theory
The freedom of the mind is like,
The freedom of a speech;
But on the table is a bowl of cherries to Archipelagos!
I have the freedom of my theory to all mankind.
Oh freedom!
Of a philosophical conundrums to share with you;
For my theory is for ages in times like war without peace!
From the freedom of a philosophical point of view,
Like the summer and winter when lovers do meet;
But i do have my mind on you always.
I am like a wanted person with an unknown identity,
I write and many dop not understand;
But like the freedom of a philosophical theory,
I have my visions to the wider threshold across the line of a battle.
Oh freedom!
To boost up my ego;
Like a rainbow shell on my theory,
But this is part of my joy at peace on this earth.
Like the way of life to all mankind,
I am to fulfil a dream on this philosophical ideas;
But the 'Louis' Theory' is all about numbers!
And the secret code is '6-5-6'.
This deals with the ages of man's life on this earth,
Like the tales of the Gurkhas in Ghana;
But, '6-5-6' has a lot to tell and explain.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Carve for Freedom….From Chaos
Somethings are silently forgotten
With aging and distance driven
Somethings are hardly forgotten
Besides the storms and sharpens
Few people live in you for ever
Though you are never together
Few places loved by you for ever
Though you will never go for sure
Seldom a song is sung for all
The memories of childhood mall
Seldom a palate is filled for all
With the relishes of the past befall
Never thought that I am still alive
Unless I went back to the shore
Where I once happily lived and swayed
Marking that I am just still alive
Having lost every emotion of life
And suffered so much as a wife
My tolerance knew no bounds
But to silently cry within my heart
I have everything for a decent life
But not the one I really wanted
Every minute of the city is driven
Be it on road, for food or for sleep
Everything is controlled beyond me
Which I hate to be a part of thee
All I cherished is the freedom to live
Freedom to sleep, freedom to work
Freedom to speech, freedom to love
Now no freedom, to even breathe…..
poem by Umasree Raghunath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O death, rock me on sleep
O death! rock me on sleep,
Bring me on quiet rest;
Yet pass my guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast:
Toll on the passing bell,
Ring out the doleful knell,
Let the sound of my death tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy,
For now I die.
My pains who can express?
Alas! they are so strong,
My dolor will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.
Alone, in prison strong,
I wail my destiny,
Wo worth this cruel hap that I
Should taste this misery:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.
Farewell my pleasures past,
Welcome my present pain;
I feel my torments so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now the passing bell,
Rung is my doleful knell,
For the sound my death doth tell,
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound my end dolefully,
For now I die.
poem by Anne Boleyn (1536)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Pleasure Of Things
If you are without your dreams, do without them!
For love is very strong but only death can separate it;
If you don't know anything, do not worry much about it!
For i am from Phoenix with love and to the pleasure of things,
For true love is stronger than anything.
Life is no movie and only death can separate love,
So play your part well on this earth;
For the train of love is passing your way.
Wherever and whenever!
The train of love is passing you by;
But there are teachers everywhere to teach you to become perfect.
Life is not easy as you may think,
So try to understand my love towards you and learn from my muse;
For i came here with the pleasure of things and to love you!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom To Love Again
freedom to love again,
moving to anouther kingdom and starting all over again,
only that this time you will have the freedom from learning from past mistakes,
so be prepared by not stepping on the same stone again,
have the freedom to leave whenever you are begining to feel unhappy again,
have the freedom to choose love,
and not to be chosen by love,
only then you will have the freedom,
freedom to love and to be loved again.
poem by Carla Isabel Huart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom
Freedom from fear is the freedom
I claim for you my motherland!
Freedom from the burden of the ages, bending your head,
breaking your back, blinding your eyes to the beckoning
call of the future;
Freedom from the shackles of slumber wherewith
you fasten yourself in night's stillness,
mistrusting the star that speaks of truth's adventurous paths;
freedom from the anarchy of destiny
whole sails are weakly yielded to the blind uncertain winds,
and the helm to a hand ever rigid and cold as death.
Freedom from the insult of dwelling in a puppet's world,
where movements are started through brainless wires,
repeated through mindless habits,
where figures wait with patience and obedience for the
master of show,
to be stirred into a mimicry of life.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Little Is Gone (But Not Forgotten)
I walked the line of self-destruction,
and self-mutilation,
my insanity was legendary,
and my madness took over my body and soul,
and than you walked into my life,
with a bright little smile,
and so curious,
you loved every minute of your life,
your friends,
your school,
and your teachers,
but know I look at the empty chair,
and I wonder what could have been,
what kind of life that you could of had,
if you hadn't felt the way that you did,
Chorus: My Little Girl IS Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten
Me you and your mother,
spent each day living life to the fullest,
unaware of the demons in your pretty little skull,
unaware of the hate that you had for this world,
the hate that you had for yourself,
that was destroying your mind,
body spirit and soul,
and destroying the love that you had for us,
I couldn't imagine,
life without you with us here,
in this life,
But what are we to do,
It’s so hard and so sad,
its like we can't move on,
Daddy has grown insane,
and Mommy's not far behind him,
Chorus: My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
The pain will never go away,
and I'll never dry my tears,
that rolls down my cheeks when I think of you,
that void in my heart and soul will always be there,
where you used to rest,
the part of me that can never be repaired,
I'll always have you in my heart,
in my body,
and in my soul.,
Life Fades,
but that doesn’t mean love has to,
Little Girl,
you'll always be in my heart,
my body and my soul,
but mostly you will always have a safe home,
in my heart,
I'd never think I'd feel like this,
strange to be like this,
strange to feel this alone,
but you know,
we will cross paths once more,
in the great beyond,
Chorus: My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
She’s always going to be our little girl,
she’s always going to be our little angel,
she’s always going to be our little Sarah,
she’s always going to rest in our hearts,
Mommy and me will get by,
Well be looking for you up in heaven,
when we finally get there,
were going to be looking for you, Babygirl,
We'll be looking for our little angel..
Chorus: My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
My Little Girl Is Gone,
But Not Forgotten,
Little girl,
you'll never be forgotten,
mommy and daddy still love you,
and will always love you,
poem by Robert Rumery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My life passes so quickly
My life passes so quickly
like a stream passing in flood
with water rushing against every thing
My life passes so quickly
that every deed and every word
frolic whirling together and are corded.
My life passes so quickly
like a stream passing in flood.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Definition Of Freedom
what a simple word.
sweet to the lips yet costs to attain. Who amongst u is really free
Do u even know what it is to be free?
What is ur definition of freedom?
Is it being loose and giving ur body to anyone withiout consensus?
Then how do u percieve feeedom?
Is it despising morals, ethics, respect and correction?
Is that ur meaning of Freedom?
Let me break it down for u.
Freedom, my Freedom, our freedom. Freedom is knowing the extents to wich God went to save ur life but still have respect for humanity.
Freedom is knowing that u don live under law but grace and still cling to this grace.
Freedom is to know that ur records of wrongs have been erased but u still strive for perfecion.
Freedom, My Freedom, Our Freedom.
My freedom is not a vote.
My freedom is not a govt designed system and terminology but My Freedom is the son of God. My Freedom is he who overcame death.
My Freedom is he who was before the beggining began. Freedom My Freedom Our Freedom is Jesus.
poem by Mbaimbai Phathutshedzo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did You Say That Your Only Freedom From Pain Is Death?
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms
still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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