Autumn is Coming
The Summer is slowly passing, and the green is dying,
The garden of flowers loses its color,
The white storks, slowly, slowly are being lost in the heights,
Tomorrow's world will be much duller.
The scent of the flower perishes in steam at dusk,
It smells like a dried, baked rusk.
In grandparent's yard, under the beam, a deserted nest,
already misses the cheerful swallow.
Up, on the house's chimney, one stork, almost lost,
looks around melancholy for the last time.
From the mountain's sheepfold to the village,
the longing shepherds descend with their sheep.
Caterpillars wreak havoc on the orchard,
Orderly, the good soldiers set out on their crusade.
A small leaf cries, scared of falling
under the strength of the wind.
The old trees are more and more troubled,
Yesterday they were full of life. Today they are rusty and tired.
The evening is coming earlier, and the sun is getting sadder,
A cricket "guitarist" is grieving.
The rain is getting colder, and the clouds are getting grayer,
The vast plains are dry, burned, withered.
From the hill, The Autumn slowly walks down towards the valley,
It's on the way, for sure. There's no other way!
poem by Marius Alexandru (September 2021)
Submitted by anonym
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Related quotes
A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written on a Summer Evening
this melancholy dusk
as the rain falls into night
ever so softly
the breath of a dying woman
this bonechilling wind
trails the air
the darkened roofs
of the malay houses
add a solemnness to the place
filled with flowers
fruit trees, wild trees
a koranic verse is heard
and another cool breeze blows
the leaves rustle
the way a man shivers
big leaves, small leaves
twirl in succession
a twist dance
so cold the night
the old woman
sick bedridden woman
so long she feels she has been ill
a feeble mind
that could not make out
dawn from dusk
the old woman
her sigh
soft as the wind
bids her quiet farewell
around her grandchildren run
impervious to her pain
the leaves rustle again
the children's cry
divides her and the world
so long ago when she was a child herself
all seems a game, a film
heartfelt images of her own life
run through her mind
long lost husband, children, grandchildren
the breeze blows again
she feels its coldness
and slowly, slowly, surely
she feels herself inching
away from the alien surroundings
slowly and slowly
death to her has become something
to be embraced
she takes another weak look at the children
rewritten from:
this melancholy evening
as the rain falls into night
ever so softly
the breath of a dying woman
and as it stops
this bonechilling wind
trails the air
the darkened roofs of malay houses
add a solemn atmosphere to the place
filled with trees, fruit trees, garden trees and wild trees
a koranic verse is heard
and another cool breeze blows
a trail of ruslte
the trees waves, big leaves, small leaves
so cold the night
an old woman
old sick bedridden woman
so long she feels she has been ill
a feeble mind trailing the world
the old woman
bids farewell to the world
her sigh
soft as the wind
a solemness pervades her room
as grandchildren run around
impervious to her pain
the leaves rustle again
the children's cry
divides her and the world
so long ago when she was a child herself
all seems like a game, a film now
the breeze blows
she feels its coldness
and slowly, slowly, surely
she feels herself inching
away from the alien surroundings
slowly and slowly
death to her has become something
to be embraced
she takes another weak look at the children
inspired by
Written on a Summer Evening
Written on a Summer Evening
The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the people to some other prayers,
Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,
More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
Surely the mind of man is closely bound
In some blind spell: seeing that each one tears
Himself from fireside joys and Lydian airs,
And converse high of those with glory crowned.
Still, still they toll, and I should feel a damp,
A chill as from a tomb, did I not know
That they are dying like an outburnt lamp, -
That 'tis their sighing, wailing, ere they go
Into oblivion -that fresh flowers will grow,
And many glories of immortal stamp.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Walks Slowly/ When He Has Nowhere Special To Go
A man walks slowly
When he has nowhere special to go-
A man walks slowly
And has the time to look around
The flowers, the trees,
His own memories his dreams-
He walks slowly
And enjoys his walking-
Who knows how much longer
He will be able to go on walking?
He walks slowsly
He has nowhere special to go-
He enjoys the morning light
He is at home with the world and happy-
He walks slowly
And is at home wherever he goes-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreams Always Come True
slowly, slowly, always
slowly seeds do grow
to become flowers and
caterpillars too
become butterflies
the flowers know all these
and so they keep on blooming
not losing hope for every winter
spring is always not far behind
i also know this and by heart
my love, i am telling you
our dreams will always come true
we only have to wait
we only have to keep the faith.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drown Me Slowly
I've got a will this time don't care what you say
I've got a feeling this will all go away
It's in the wind this time it's in the southern sky
I can't walk on water yet won't even try
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
All that I took with me was a bad taste in my mouth
Went all around the world just couldn't spit it out
Just like ground zero was the surface of the sun
That's a sickness I can't fix it not all at once
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
Don't let them take you down
You'll leave a better world than you found
Don't let them take you down
You'll leave a better world than you found
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shore Down Under
Lonely
As lonely as I can be
Slowly
As slow as time can be
I stared into the sea
I stared out to the waves
Slowly as slow as waves can be
When will you come to me
When will you come to me
Where the summer burns blue and green
Here on this burning sand
I listened to this hungry sea
Its falling on the level shores
And the wind blows through the trees
And I think of you
And I think of the days
If only I could see your face
The price of a holiday
Hope the wind will carry me away
Hope the wind will carry me away
Listen, listen
Listen to the siren
Hear your voice
Your voice cried by the river
Slowly, slowly
It flows to the sea
When will you come to me
When will you come to me
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Stork. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
Welcome, O Stork! that dost wing
Thy flight from the far-away!
Thou hast brought us the signs of Spring,
Thou hast made our sad hearts gay.
Descend, O Stork! descend
Upon our roof to rest;
In our ash-tree, O my friend,
My darling, make thy nest.
To thee, O Stork, I complain,
O Stork, to thee I impart
The thousand sorrows, the pain
And aching of my heart.
When thou away didst go,
Away from this tree of ours,
The withering winds did blow,
And dried up all the flowers.
Dark grew the brilliant sky,
Cloudy and dark and drear;
They were breaking the snow on high,
And winter was drawing near.
From Varaca's rocky wall,
From the rock of Varaca unrolled,
the snow came and covered all,
And the green meadow was cold.
O Stork, our garden with snow
Was hidden away and lost,
Mid the rose-trees that in it grow
Were withered by snow and frost.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slowly Gone
The rose
Slowly droops
It's petals
Falling to the ground
Slowly turning black
Slowly dying
Every moment
The rose was alive
Fades into
Nothingness
Everything it
Was
Gone
Life is cruel
Death is easier
Even if you
Made it as
Far as you could
Death would
Eventually
Claim you
And you would be
Simply
Gone
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Act Of Love
Neil Young - "Mirror Ball") (performed live on various dates)
The fruit of love was in the future
Around the corner and over the hill
The act of love was slowly pounding, slowly pounding, slowly pounding.
The Holy War was slowly building
Heroes leaving for the Great Crusade
Seek reward in the ever after, ever after, ever after.
Don't wanna have to lose you baby
Don't want to have to take you back
You know I'll never lose you baby, abuse you baby, use you baby.
You know I'll always help you baby, but you know I just can't do that.
I know I said I'd help you baby, here's ny wallet, call me sometime.
Act of love... (4x)
The fruit of love was in the future
Around the corner and over the hill
The act of love was slowly pounding, slowly pounding, slowly pounding.
Act of love... (4x
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell To Summer
It has begun: a few leaves are falling;
Autumn has started its gentle calling.
Summer is slowly coming to an end;
Now autumn wants to be our friend.
During autumn, we may feel a little cold,
But, in return, we've been promised gold.
Golden leaves will be found all around:
Up in the trees, and down on the ground.
Leaves of yellow, brown, orange, and fiery red,
Will form a coloured carpet to soften our tread.
We'll be presented with a whole wealth of riches,
As, from summer to autumn, the season switches.
The tall, towering trees will be set ablaze,
As traces of summer are slowly erased.
Sorely missed will be summer's long days;
Sorely missed will be summer's warm rays.
But time moves on, and the summer must go;
No doubt we'll be dazzled by autumn's show.
Autumn prefers to paint us a different scene;
It likes to wipe summer's colour palette clean.
Some say farewell to summer with a sad tear,
But, others much prefer this time of the year.
Chill September mornings may be here again,
But our memories of this summer will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hokku Poems in Four Seasons
Spring
The year's first poem done,
with smug self confidence
a haikai poet.
Longer has become the daytime;
a pheasant is fluttering
down onto the bridge.
Yearning for the Bygones
Lengthening days,
accumulating, and recalling
the days of distant past.
Slowly passing days,
with an echo heard here in a
corner of Kyoto.
The white elbow
of a priest, dozing,
in the dusk of spring.
Into a nobleman,
a fox has changed himself
early evening of spring.
The light on a candle stand
is transferred to another candle
spring twilight.
A short nap,
then awakening
this spring day has darkened.
Who is it for,
this pillow on the floor,
in the twilight of spring?
The big gateway's heavy doors,
standing in the dusk of spring.
Hazy moonlight --
someone is standing
among the pear trees.
Blossoms on the pear tree,
lighten by the moonlight, and there
a woman is reading a letter.
Springtime rain -- almost dark,
and yet today still lingers.
Springtime rain --
a little shell on a small beach,
enough to moisten it.
Springtime rain is falling,
as a child's rag ball is soaking
wet on the house roof.
@Summer
Within the quietness
of a lull in visitors' absence,
appears the peony flower!
Peony having scattered, two
or three petals lie on one another.
The rain of May --
facing toward the big river, houses,
just two of them.
At a Place Called Kaya in Tanba
A summer river being crossed,
how pleasing,
with sandals in my hands!
The mountain stonecutter's chisel;
being cooled in the clear water.
Grasses wet in the rain,
just after the festival cart passed by.
To my eyes how delightful
the fan of my beloved is,
in complete white.
A flying cuckoo,
over the Heian capital,
goes diagonally across the city.
Evening breeze --
water is slapping against
the legs of a blue heron.
An old well --
jumping at a mosquito,
the fish's sound is dark.
Young bamboo trees --
at Hashimoto, the courtesan,
is she still there or not?
After having been fallen,
its image still stands --
the peony flower.
Stepping on the Eastern Slope
Wild roses in bloom --
so like a pathway in,
or toward, my home village.
With sorrow while coming upon the hill
--flowering wild roses.
Summer night ending so soon,
with on the river shallows still remains
the moon in a sliver.
@Autumn
It penetrates into me;
stepping on the comb of my gone wife,
in the bedroom.
More than last year,
I now feel solitude;
this autumn twilight.
This being alone may even be a kind of happy
-- in the autumn dusk.
Moon in the sky's top,
clearly passes through this
poor town street.
This feeling of sadness --
a fishing string being blown by the autumn wind.
@Winter
Let myself go to bed;
New Year's Day is only a matter
for tomorrow.
Camphor tree roots are quietly getting wet,
in the winter rainy air.
A handsaw is sounding,
as if from a poor one,
at midnight in this winter.
Old man's love affair;
in trying to forget it,
a winter rainfall.
In an old pond,
a straw sandal is sinking
-- it is sleeting.
poem by Yosa Buson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Dies A Little More
Slowly
Ever so slowly
She dies a little more inside
Her dreams
What she hoped
To achieve wastes away
Never
Becoming the
Reality she wishes
Love
Lost and now
Forgotten beneath white ashes
Curiosity
Destroyed
Burned to cinders
Happiness
A fading hope
In a never ending nightmare
Anger
The hot embers
Are the only thing she has now
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty of Spring
it starts with the grass
slowly, blade by blade
growing, sprouting, covering
while more beauty is made
the green of the grass
then the green of the trees
slowly, but early showing
the small but budding leaves
the early flowers
pouring color and beauty
a still bland land
but now with color to see
the birds coming back
with their squawks and their tweets
the bround growing warm
beneathe my bare feet
the bunnies and the squirrels
the turtles and the snakes
the fish swimming free
in the thawing lakes
the beauty of Spring
with new life all around!
the coming of pure beauty
with the thawing ground
poem by Kellsey Hartmann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Act Of Love
The fruit of love was in the future
Around the corner and over the hill
The act of love was slowly pounding, slowly pounding, slowly pounding.
The holy war was slowly building
Heroes leaving for the great crusade
Seek reward in the ever after, ever after, ever after.
Dont wanna have to lose you baby
Dont want to have to take you back
You know Ill never lose you baby, abuse you baby, use you baby.
You know Ill always help you baby, but you know I just cant do that.
I know I said Id help you baby, heres ny wallet, call me sometime.
Act of love... (4x)
The fruit of love was in the future
Around the corner and over the hill
The act of love was slowly pounding, slowly pounding, slowly pounding.
Act of love... (4x)
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cordell
She stands alone,
In the autumn rain.
Watching her life walk away.
The soft thud of,
Slowly disappearing dreams,
On the street.
Dreams muffled,
By the autumn rain.
Slowly fading in the twilight.
He won't look back,
There is something in his eye.
The autumn rain.
A voice deep down says,
Turn around you fool.
As the autumn rain falls.
The mustang sits by the curb,
Rain dripping like tears,
From the windshield.
Even his car is crying,
The car with her smell,
The car she loved so.
He gets in and sits behind the wheel,
And the autumn rain comes again.
Inside the car, briney salty, rain.
Looking in the rearview mirror,
He sees her silhouette.
Through his tears and the autumn rain.
Slowly the fastback pulls away,
From the curb.
Leaving her standing by the Cordell,
In the autumn rain.
8/12/12 Alton Texas.
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victim to persecution
Then you talk a little more about your dreams,
How it involves your thought of rings,
a little more about your needs,
for i bit my tounge,
just for a feed,
for you drag me in the street,
ask me to forgive your mistakes,
put me in misery from your plea,
as i buckle from my knees,
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
It's perjury on your arm,
that was put there by your soul,
your feeling sorry, for not achieving your goals,
tacking in your argument,
as you stated with your thought,
you bring me down,
and destroy my heart,
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
Asking which way is out,
Asking which was not as hard,
Misdirected in your final mount,
as you shout,
cry your lungs out to stay afloat,
yet push me under,
strain to be felt,
pushing me down, holding my throat,
I started to feel the black,
and evil you call your safety boat,
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
toss in the rope, pull it tight,
you might be something,
but what was it like?
examining it close,
you cross your path,
just get it right,
asking for the sight,
to see your destination,
falling victim,
to persecution,
put on a trial,
to discover if your human,
for your life,
failing to corruption,
of your mind,
sorry about how you felt,
but do you know yourself?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Matthew Boisjolie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Passes Slowly
Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,
We sit beside bridges and walk beside fountains,
Catch the wild fishes that float through the stream,
Time passes slowly when youre lost in a dream.
Once I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-lookin,
We sat in her kitchen while her mama was cookin,
Stared out the window to the stars high above,
Time passes slowly when youre searchin for love.
Aint no reason to go in a wagon to town,
Aint no reason to go to the fair.
Aint no reason to go up, aint no reason to go down,
Aint no reason to go anywhere.
Time passes slowly up here in the daylight,
We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right,
Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day,
Time passes slowly and fades away.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forests of autumn
I see her, by the lamplight; waiting,
I watch her from the shadows, so dark,
Her hair; ruffled by the soft autumn breeze,
Shining; as gold in the forests of autumn,
Eyes sparkling, so dark, so brown,
As the brown, in the forests of autumn.
Her hand traces slowly; a pattern,
through the mist, falling gently, softly,
onto the mirror she holds, reflecting starlight,
Into her eyes.
She is waiting; like a girl for her first love,
Waiting nervously; .... waiting for me,
So pretty, so wonderful, so shy, so..! ,
The lamplight still shines; but she has gone,
Into the shadows of time.
No pattern traced her mirror, no mirror did I see,
No; .... No one.
The wind blows colder, from the forests of autumn,
I walk; alone, in the silence,
Thinking, ..Remembering,
She died two years ago.
Moonlight steals slowly,
across the sands where I sit,
The sea, speaks with murmurs on the rocks,
On the shore; ..deserted,
The wind of autumn whispers, across the sailors graves,
Free of lifes worries, ... free of lifes joys,
I listen to the murmurings; Alone,
In this eerie solitude.
I turn and feel, sea spray upon the wind,
in my hair; ..against my cheek,
My eyes taste the salt; .. though closed;
Of my tears
Quietness descends; .. like an angels cloak,
Can that angel; ..be her of my pain, my tears,
For she has died,
My tears are touched......and dried,
By the wind; from the forests of autumn.
poem by Laurie hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Lost Joy and Faded Memories...
I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?
I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.
Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.
Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.
Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.
I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.
As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.
Lost It...I Don't Know When Or
I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?
I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptivly.
Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.
Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.
Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.
I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.
As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.