Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Harvest For The World
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
When will there be a harvest for all the people
When will there be a harvest for all the world
Harvest For The World
All babies together, everyone a seed
Half of us are satisfied, half of us in need
Love's bountiful in us, tarnished by our greed
When will there be a harvest for the world
A nation planted, so concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain
And far too many feelin' the strain
When will there be a harvest for the world
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
Gather everyone, gather all together
Overlooking none, hopin' life gets better for the world
Dress me up for battle, when all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price, come home with the least
Nation after nation, turning into beast
When will there be a harvest for the world
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla
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Inspired by Issa - Harvest Moonn
harvest moon -
the field flying
with broken stalks
harvest moon -
no more loud sighs
from the windy fields
harvest moon
thanksgiving incense
trails over fields
harvest moon
the garden echoes with plan
for the next season
inspired by
harvest moon-
some are stretched out
some praying
-Issa,1821
http: //cat.xula.edu/issa/
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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First Encounter - RabindranathTagore's paintings
Tagore's Last Harvest
a child putting wings
to his imagination
Tagore's Last Harvest
behind the colours and lines
a child
Tagore's Last Harvest
the nobel laureate dances
with ink and pen
Tagore's Last Harvest
the colourful images
of a colourful life
Last Harvest an exhibition of 49 of Tagore's paintings
are exhibited in Kuala Lumpur Visual Arts Museum for three months
April to July.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Inspired by Issa-Harvest Moon
harvest moon -
for the sacrecrow
a deep last bow
harvest moon -
the scarecrow orchestrates
an empty field
inspired by
harvest moon-
tonight even you
are busy!
-Issa,1810
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Harvest Festival
See the flowers round the altar
See the peaches in tins neath the headmasters chair
Harvest festival
See the two whove been chosen
See them walk hand in hand to the front of the hall
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
See the children with baskets
See their hair cut like corn neatly combed in their rows
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
Across the hymnbooks and the canvas chairs
The longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
What a year when the exams and crops all failed
Of course you passed but you were never seen again
We all grew and we got screwed and cut and nailed
Then out of nowhere invitation in gold pen
See the flowers round the altar
See that you too got married and I wish you well
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
Across the hymnbooks and the canvas chairs
The longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
Harvest festival
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harvest Festival
See the flowers round the altar
See the peaches in tins neath the headmasters chair
Harvest festival
See the two whove been chosen
See them walk hand in hand to the front of the hall
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
See the children with baskets
See their hair cut like corn neatly combed in their rows
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
Across the hymnbooks and the canvas chairs
The longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
What a year when the exams and crops all failed
Of course you passed but you were never seen again
We all grew and we got screwed and cut and nailed
Then out of nowhere invitation in gold pen
See the flowers round the altar
See that you too got married and I wish you well
Harvest festival
Harvest festival
What was best of all was the
Longing look you gave me
That longing look
Across the hymnbooks and the canvas chairs
The longing look you gave me
That longing look
More than enough to keep me fed all year
Harvest festival
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Fields O'er Which the Reaper's Hand Has Pass'd
On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
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The one who doesn't sow
The one who doesn't sow
will never get the harvest
and lives on others good.
The one who understands it
is the wisest.
That one
will gather heavy harvest
from any little rood.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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A farmer does not boast that he has had a good harvest until his stock of yams lasts till the following harvest season.
The harvest
Some sowed seeds of cabage.
They got the leaves as harvest..
Some grafted buds of oleander.
They got flowers as harvest.
Some planted ginger for rhizome,
And some, cinnamon for bark.
So are banana grown for fruits,
And cardamom, for seeds.
Some plants for wood or shades.
Planting is not for only seeds.
Loving is not for only progeny.
It includes sights, pursuits, chats,
Romance, embraces and indulgence,
Recollections and remembrance.
Pining and sorrow are by-products.
Each is a piece of harvest of love.
03.07.2000.Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Apples
One thing
we all have
in common is
we're ripening
for the harvest.
Donald Trump
and Pee-wee Herman,
Bill Gates
and Eliot Spitzer,
Warren Buffett
and Anthony Weiner
are different
in many respects
but like the rest of us,
they, too, are ripening
for the harvest.
They hang with us
from the same branch,
apples, big and small,
ripening in summer,
withering in fall,
waiting for winter
to conduct its harvest.
Some of us hang
from that branch
and wonder
what in the name
of God is next.
Others just hang.
They appear
not to care
poem by Donal Mahoney
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I Am Beneath The Harvest Moon
I am beneath the
Harvest moon
And I feel that I been
Crowned by the harvest moon
Tonight
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A strange farm girl
She smiled with the old farmer's son
And he thinks that she's different from others.
The way she holds the sickle
And her talking manner too.
After the harvest festival
She's not to be seen anymore and the farm boy is sad.
''She's with her far relative here
On her school holidays and then back to school.'
His inquisitive widowed sister told.
She helped to the Harvest and not only that
And she's stolen the boy's mild heart.
How many school holidays have passed?
And the usual harvest never stopped.
The farm boy has taken
His deceased father's burden
And like a nonentity he just walks towards the barn!
* 'There are times when silence has the loudest voice.' -Leroy Brownlow
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Snap-Script - Harvest
Golden harvest,
Golden sun,
Silver sickle,
Harvest won.
poem by Mill Field
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Harvest Moon (live)
Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say
Just like the children sleeping, we could dance the sun away
But there's a full moon risin', let's go dancin' in the night
We know where the music's playin', let's go out and feel the night
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
When we were strangers, I watched you from afar
Then we were lovers, I love you with all my heart
But now it's getting late, and the moon is climbing high
I want to celabrate, see it shining in your eyes
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Pongal and Tamil New Year,2010
To staff, CRRIs and students
May festival of harvest bring
Wealth, prosperity as we sing,
And cleanliness of surroundings,
For Indians and other earthlings!
May festival of harvest bring
More piety, less worldliness,
Regard for animals in farm,
And all who give us happiness.
May festival of harvest bring
More joy to homes, our kith and kin,
As colorful ‘kolams’ adorn
The houses, showing Indianness!
May festival of harvest ring
The bells of labor and of toil,
As sweetened rice begins to boil,
O’erflowing in clay-pots to soil!
Wishing all Indians globally
‘A Happy Pongal,2010! ’
And Tamilians globally,
‘A Happy Tamil New Year,2010! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-1-2010
From, Dean, IRT PMC, Perundurai
poem by John Celes
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The Farmer's Song
....and the farmer sing a song
a song of bountiful harvest.
His face covered with sweat
but he smiles as bright as the sun
and the farmer sing a song...
'Oh, gracious heaven
thank you for this day
thank you for this bountiful harvest.'
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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As God Gave Freely
As God gave freely unto me
gifts of compassion love patience time
so I also give freely unto you
in the fertile landscapes of harvest mind
have I not prepared fields broken ground
have I not sown in full measure love seed
will you now take ownership of these fields?
will you water fertilize tender growth shoots?
will you weed harvest all life love gift fields?
for 18 months more have I alone toiled prepared?
are not these fields without cost to you purchased?
did I not give sacred work all my time livelihood?
will you choose to help harvest these compassion seeds?
will you let peace love flower with purity in your minds?
will you turn swords into plough shears till peace fields?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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No Foe Shall Gather Our Harvest
Sons of the mountains of Scotland,
Welshmen of coomb and defile,
Breed of the moors of England,
Children of Erin's green isle,
We stand four square to the tempest,
Whatever the battering hail-
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
Our women shall walk in honour,
Our children shall know no chain,
This land, that is ours forever,
The invader shall strike at in vain.
Anzac!...Tobruk!...and Kokoda!...
Could ever the old blood fail?
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
So hail-fellow-met we muster,
And hail-fellow-met fall in,
Wherever the guns may thunder,
Or the rocketing air-mail spin!
Born of the soil and the whirlwind,
Though death itself be the gale-
No foe shall gather our harvest
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
We are the sons of Australia,
of the men who fashioned the land;
We are the sons of the women
Who walked with them hand in hand;
And we swear by the dead who bore us,
By the heroes who blazed the trail,
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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