Sitting in looking at rain on vacanes

Morning Rain by Tu Fu

A slight rain comes, bathed in dawn light.
I hear it among treetop leaves before mist
Arrives. Soon it sprinkles the soil and,
Windblown, follows clouds away. Deepened

Colors grace thatch homes for a moment.
Flocks and herds of things wild glisten
Faintly. Then the scent of musk opens across
Half a mountain -- and lingers on past noon.

Jpr:   Suspect great tree poems must be so inspired.

Whole Heap A Little Horses

Go to sleep, go to sleep
Go to sleepy little baby
When you wake, have some cake
And ride them pretty little horses

Black and a bay, sorrel and a gray
A whole heap a little horses
Black and a bay, sorrel and a gray
A whole heap a little horses

Irish Trad           http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TvN2P-DE-xA

"Do not go gentle into that good night"

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~~ Dylan Thomas

O Death sung by Ralph Stanley

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
Well what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
................

O Death
O,, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
My mother came to my bed
Placed a cold towel upon my head
My head is warm my feet are cold
Death is a-movin upon my soul
Oh, death how you're treatin' me
You've close my eyes so I can't see
Well you're hurtin' my body
You make me cold
You run my life right outta my soul
Oh death please consider my age
Please don't take me at this stage
My wealth is all at your command
If you will move your icy hand
Oh the young, the rich or poor
Hunger like me you know
No wealth, no ruin, no silver no gold

Nothing satisfies me but your soul.

"Hope Is The Thing With Feathers" by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity
It asked a crumb of me.

Flowers in the rain

“The rain to the wind said,
You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”

― Robert Frost

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=LMG8xW2HrAM

janurary

"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow."  
-  Robert Frost,

the lullaby from nany mcfee

Mrs. Brown's Lullaby - Patrick Doyle

Loola-Bye, oh, Loola Bye My lovely Loola moon Tip-toe by where my babies lie In your tiny silver shoon Will you guard, will you keep Will you watch over please My wee ones, my lambkins My sweet chick-a-chick-a-dees Loola-Bye, oh, Loola-Bye... In your tiny silver shoon


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PnuPDrrxMw

More Yeats

When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

When you are old and grey and full of sleep, 

And nodding by the fire, take down this book, 

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look 

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;





How many loved your moments of glad grace, 

And loved your beauty with love false or true, 

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, 

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;





And bending down beside the glowing bars, 

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled 

And paced upon the mountains overhead 

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. 

When at night I go to sleep

When at night I go to sleep
Fourteen angels watch do keep
Two my head are guarding
Two my feet are guiding
Two are on my right hand
Two are on my left hand
Two who warmly cover
Two who o'er me hover
Two to whom 'tis given
To guide my steps to Heaven.

by Engelbert Humperdinck

let it begin (again)!

       

Brown Penny

I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon. 

William Butler Yeats

There is another sky by Emily Dickinson

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,

Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,                                                  
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!

Morning Rain by Tu Fu

A slight rain comes, bathed in dawn light.
I hear it among treetop leaves before mist
Arrives. Soon it sprinkles the soil and,
Windblown, follows clouds away. Deepened

Colors grace thatch homes for a moment.
Flocks and herds of things wild glisten
Faintly. Then the scent of musk opens across
Half a mountain -- and lingers on past noon.


jpr: I can hear Chinese muisc in the background! Lovely!

waters of tyne

I cannot get to my love if I would die;
The water of Tyne runs between her and me
And here I must stand with a tear in my 'ee,
Both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see

Oh, where is the boatman, my bonny hinny?
Oh, where is the boatman? Bring him to me
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
And I will remember the boatman and thee

Oh, bring me a boatman, I'll give any money,
And you for your troubles rewarded shall be
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey
Or scull her across the rough river to me.

try
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuc0kKr0r-s
for a few tears....

Evening by To Nguyễn Khắc Hiếu

Today the weightless clouds ascend aloft.
Joyless I am, yet know not why.
The roses' leaves fall quiet on rustic paths
While virgin dew covers the founts of love.
Floating about, the soul of rose wanders,
Spreading under its breath sweet love's beauty.
It seems the wind hungers to cross the stream,
Yet fears the reeds reveal the empty boat.
It seems the air is in a tangled web
That each step tears and each move rips.
Serene the eve lingers in dusky haze.
Though safe my heart wallows in mild soft gloom.

Nothing Better than finding a previously "unknown (to me)" writer like this Dude. Giggles and Grins...

Love Song

How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you,
takes us together like a violin's bow,
which draws *one* voice out of two separate strings.
Upon what instrument are we two spanned?
And what musician holds us in his hand?
Oh sweetest song. 

Rainer Maria Rilke

Time of Roses by Thomas Hood

It was not in the Winter                                          

Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

That churlish season never frown'd
On early lovers yet:
O no—the world was newly crown'd
With flowers when first we met!

'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

Old Indian Prayer

Should your blanket be torn,
May your breezes blow warm,
May your pleasure be what you find.
May the burdens you bear
Like your bounty-be shared
May you leave something good behind

May the sky and the land
Rise to your command
May your senses come like the night.
Live in peace with the Earth
As in death-As in birth
May you prosper, and have a good life.

A warning label needed

"No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner signed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage."

William Shakespeare, As Your Like It

summer contemplation

golden sunrays casting long shadows on the ground,
come back tomorrow,
I will kiss you with golden ray of my heart,
your dance is beautiful,
you make things spin,
all minutes matter,
how greatful am I for You.

b