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In the strips of woods [În arcane de pădure]

In the strips of woods, the darkness in a scary way is clinging.
Both the crowded leaves are silent and the slender trees, so high;
Night is dumb, and sad, and dying, sheltered by the opaque sky,
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.

In the strips of woods, the tempest in a scary way is spinning,
Sending down a flood of water and a crimson bolt of flame;
Why is harmony a nuisance and a fury without aim,
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.

In the strips of woods, the terror with the quietness is mingling,
Late aurora under foliage cannot come to light the moss,
For in front of it the darkness blocks the way and lies across –
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.

poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Nightingale

I built my house beside the wood
So I could hear you singing
And it was sweet and it was good
And love was all beginning
Fare thee well my nightingale
Twas long ago I found you
Now all your songs of beauty fail
The forest closes round you
The sun goes down behind a veil
Tis now that you would call me
So rest in peace my nightingale
Beneath your branch of holly
Fare thee well my nightingale
I lived but to be near you
Tho' you are singing somewhere still
I can no longer hear you

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Three Maidens

There were three maidens met on the highway;
The sun was down, the night was late:
And two sang loud with the birds of May,
O the nightingale is merry with its mate.

Said they to the youngest, Why walk you there so still?
The land is dark, the night is late:
O, but the heart in my side is ill,
And the nightingale will languish for its mate.

Said they to the youngest, Of lovers there is store;
The moon mounts up, the night is late:
O, I shall look on man no more,
And the nightingale is dumb without its mate.

Said they to the youngest, Uncross your arms and sing;
The moon mounts high, the night is late:
O my dear lover can hear no thing,
And the nightingale sings only to its mate.

They slew him in revenge, and his true-love was his lure;
The moon is pale, the night is late:
His grave is shallow on the moor;
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.

His blood is on his breast, and the moss-roots at his hair;
The moon is chill, the night is late:
But I will lie beside him there:
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Small Nightingale

Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird

Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird

Oh! god save me!
Oh! lord save me!

I have tried to save myself but i failed to?

Nightingale Nightingale
I am a sorrowful bird

Nightingale Nightingale
I am a sorrowful bird

Oh! god forget about this;
Listen about the frog

The frog was jealous of me as i sing so well
He wants me to die

Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird

BUT, I am a dying bird
BUT, I am a dying bird.

Oh! god save me!
Oh! lord save me!

poem by Abhishek Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those birds

Those birds outside your window at dawn
singing all at once fit to bust –

did you know they migrate from Islam
in the fighting season?

They’re all Sufis: they sleep all night
with the Beloved; and in the morning

they exchange the jokes they heard,
the pillow talk from the night before sleep;

then the blackbird and the thrush
weave these into stories which they sing

all day; then at night the nightingale
makes them all into one beautiful poem

about being intoxicated into song
by the wine of Shiraz; the rose-water wafers;

and how those who say
that one cannot be intoxicated

by the longing for the One
have proved themselves wrong

and proved the nightingale right
as you can know in yourself

when the nightingale sings of this
to the heart’s light pulsing in the stars.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird Raptures

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale,
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.

Make haste to mount, thou wistful moon,
Make haste to wake the nightingale:
Let silence set the world in tune
To hearken to that wordless tale
Which warbles from the nightingale.

O herald skylark, stay thy flight
One moment, for a nightingale
Floods us with sorrow and delight.
To-morrow thou shalt hoist the sail;
Leave us tonight the nightingale.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man with a Guitar

Men talk on the public square,
Pigeons eat on the sidewalk and fly,
Women flirt and feed the pigeons.

Men, envious of pigeons,
Desire more attention from the women
But women only notice birds who know how to sing.

There comes a nightingale that starts singing
And attention moves from pigeons to nightingales;
There comes a man with a guitar, and he starts playing

And singing like a nightingale.
A woman allured by these new sounds
Forgets the pigeons and nightingales;

She shyly starts to sing
And turns to a man with a guitar.

poem by Dejan Stojanovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Night When The World Is Sleeping

at night when the world is sleeping
i have learned to sing inside the chamber of my heart
i have become this nightingale
a black nightingale singing the songs of the full moon
at night i have become this bleeding heart
blood dripping on the floor of the house

at night i beg the moon to listen
to the songs of the black nightingale
i beg the moon
to see the blood from my heart dripping
i beg the floor to understand and for a time being
when sadness and mourning reigns in the house of my body
to keep this bleeding heart
like sands on the floor of its hands.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nightingale

(ferry/manzanera)
Before the morning comes, will I hear your song
Come little nightingale, I wont be here for long
When youre up there flying, do you care
If theres no one else around?
When your lover leaves you in the air
Do you waver, do you fall?
Now while the moon is high
Shall we, nightingale,
Duet all through the night
A pair of souls for sale
Stars cluster glistening
Captive till the dawn
Patiently listening
Theyve heard it all before
Should I stay here or should I go?
I couldnt bear to be alone
Was it really love I saw?
Oh, now Ill never know
What is this I hear?
I recognise that song
Sweet little nightingale I knew youd come along
Soon when the morning comes.
We will both be gone
So sing pretty nightingale
Lead, Ill follow on.

song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River Of Love

(Sommers)
All of my life I've been so happy while I have had you by my side.
Now you say you're gonna leave me for to become someone else's bride.
Oh, the river of love it has gone muddy and the flowers, they are dying on the shore.
And the blue skies have all turned to darkness and the nightingale will sing no more.
What can I do to hide my sorrow, what can I do to ease the pain?
How can I keep these tears from falling? Oh, darling, won't you come back home again?
Oh, the river of love it has gone muddy and the flowers, they are dying on the shore.
And the blue skies have all turned to darkness and the nightingale will sing no more.
Tomorrow I will take you to the station, I will see that you're safely on that train.
When the Two-Nineteen has parted, I'll never ever see your smile again.
Oh, the river of love it has gone muddy and the flowers, they are dying on the shore.
And the blue skies have all turned to darkness and the nightingale will sing no more.
And the blue skies have all turned to darkness and the nightingale will sing no more.

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing All Day

Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there,
Looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
Nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
My, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, tryn to remember,
Shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
Is that her in the fur coat?
No its not december yet,
My, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe shell phone me,
Singing my song, feeling so lonely.
Ill sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money Makes The Mirth

When all birds else do of their music fail,
Money's the still-sweet-singing nightingale!

poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm a singing rainbow

When my eyes are blue
I’m a sky-spelled beam of Heaven
Singing icons of beauty

Brown
I’m an autumn singing
Falls of leaves to the ground
Yellow
I’m millions of suns
Singing rays of warmth
Green
I’m a throbbing rainforest
Singing fibers of creation
Violet
I’m a tiny flower singing
Strength of growth
Rad
I’m a blood-spelled shade of Light
Singing peace of darkness

When my eyes are empty
I’m a singing rainbow

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Halo

There's a halo above my head
It wasn't there yesterday, am I dead?
I can see blue sky above me
And a nightingale singing in the tree
The light shines but the darkness remains
I hold my hand out and can only feel rain
My fire is cold but burning bright
I stoke it and see embers jump into the night
For I am lost, which way I can't say
I have a halo above me so I suppose that's OK.

poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By The Arno

THE oleander on the wall
Grows crimson in the dawning light,
Though the grey shadows of the night
Lie yet on Florence like a pall.

The dew is bright upon the hill,
And bright the blossoms overhead,
But ah! the grasshoppers have fled,
The little Attic song is still.

Only the leaves are gently stirred
By the soft breathing of the gale,
And in the almond-scented vale
The lonely nightingale is heard.

The day will make thee silent soon,
O nightingale sing on for love!
While yet upon the shadowy grove
Splinter the arrows of the moon.

Before across the silent lawn
In sea-green mist the morning steals,
And to love's frightened eyes reveals
The long white fingers of the dawn

Fast climbing up the eastern sky
To grasp and slay the shuddering night,
All careless of my heart's delight,
Or if the nightingale should die.

poem by Oscar Wilde
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From The Break The Nightingale

From the brake the Nightingale
Sings exulting to the Rose;
Though he sees her waxing pale
In her passionate repose,
While she triumphs waxing frail,
Fading even while she glows;
Though he knows
How it goes -
Knows of last year's Nightingale
Dead with last year's Rose.

Wise the enamoured Nightingale,
Wise the well-beloved Rose!
Love and life shall still prevail,
Nor the silence at the close
Break the magic of the tale
In the telling, though it shows -
Who but knows
How it goes! -
Life a last year's Nightingale,
Love a last year's Rose.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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Nightingale

Im hanging on to my peace of mind
I just dont know
Im hanging on to those good times, baby
Just want to let them roll
Im gonna make it to the light and joy
Ill tell you why
I got a woman who can take me there
The apple of my eye
Oh, I just dont know, no no, no, no
I love her so
Dont let me see that morning paper
Cause I dont need those dues
Its just the same old murder movie
But they call it the news
Ill tell you what would be some story
And what would set me free
Is if the same thing happened to everybody
That just happened to me, oh,
I just dont know, no, no, no, no
Ill never let her go
Every time I hear somebody sneakin
Up behind whoa, I turn around
But I still hear that sound
And just when Im about to lose my mind
Here comes my baby
Singing like a nightingale
Coming my way down along that devastation
Trail well tell the lord above
Shes got a brand of love
That cannot fail
Im hanging on to my peace of mind
Thats no lie
Im hanging on to my special friend
The apple of my eye
My inspiration, too
Shes got a lead on my heart and
My soul and she knows just what to do
Oh, I just dont know, no ,no, no, no
No, I get so low, and my minds about to go
But wait a minute, here comes my baby
Singing like a nightingale
Coming my way down along that devastation
Trail
Well, let the fires burn, let the
Floods return
We will prevail
Hanging on to my peace of mind
I just dont know

song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet And The Bird

Said a people to a poet---' Go out from among us straightway!
While we are thinking earthly things, thou singest of divine.
There's a little fair brown nightingale, who, sitting in the gateways
Makes fitter music to our ears than any song of thine!'

The poet went out weeping---the nightingale ceased chanting;
'Now, wherefore, O thou nightingale, is all thy sweetness done?'
I cannot sing my earthly things, the heavenly poet wanting,
Whose highest harmony includes the lowest under sun.'

The poet went out weeping,---and died abroad, bereft there---
The bird flew to his grave and died, amid a thousand wails:---
And, when I last came by the place, I swear the music left there
Was only of the poet's song, and not the nightingale's.

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Keats

The young Endymion sleeps Endymion's sleep;
The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told!
The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep;
It is midsummer, but the air is cold;
Can it be death? Alas, beside the fold
A shepherd's pipe lies shattered near his sheep.
Lo! in the moonlight gleams a marble white,
On which I read: "Here lieth one whose name
Was writ in water." And was this the meed
Of his sweet singing? Rather let me write:
"The smoking flax before it burst to flame
Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed."

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square

That certain night, the night we met,
There was magic abroad in the air.
There were angels dining at the ritz,
And a nightingale sang in berkeley square.
I may be right, I may be wrong,
But Im perfectly willing to swear
That when you turned and smiled at me,
A nightingale sang in berkeley square.
The moon that lingered over londontown
Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown.
How could he know that we two were so in love?
The whole darn world seemed upside down.
The streets of town were paved with stars,
It was such a romantic affair.
And as we kissed and said goodnight,
A nightingale sang in berkeley square.
~interlude~
When dawn came stealing up, all gold and blue
To interrupt our rendez-vous,
I still remember how you smiled and said,
Was that a dream? or was it true?
Our homeward step was just as light
As the dancing of fred astaire,
And like an echo far away
A nightingale sang in berkeley square.

song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nightingale

Nightingale
Sing us a song
Of a love that once belonged
Nightingale
Tell me your tale
Was your journey far too long?

Does it seem like I'm looking for an answer
To a question I can't ask
I don't know which way the feather falls
Or if i should blow it to the left

All the voices that are spinnin' around me
Trying to tell me what to say
Can I fly right behind you
And you can take me away

song performed by by Norah Jones from Come Away With Me
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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