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The timid ox drinks muddy watr.

Bajan proverbs
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MuDdY......... wAtEr............! !

MuDdY......... wAtEr............! !
Pouring muddy water?
I clean my self
Again he throws
Muddy water
I throw him out again
There walks a new person
Sprinkles little mud around
I dust them here n there
And I walk towards life
He stops me there
I turn back at him
He splashes the muddy water
I wash them again with
With waters of tears!
Words of apology
Gestures of forgiveness
He takes my crying face
And paints me again
Again with muddy water
No tears this time
Its blood I use again
To clear the muddy water
And I limit the days I want to live
In distress he pats my pats my back
With his right hand
But alas he was staining me
With his left hand
Muddy water was it again
I clear my seat
I tidy myself
Painstakingly not with
Brush nor broom
But with scalpel and knife
Cutting and chistlling
Callous and critical
Every inch of my individuality
But still he would silently take me
Take me to the corners of love
& again teem me with muddy water
There I attempt to kill myself
& he pacifies me again
With explanations of muddy water
Now I know scrubbing and scouring
Will never help
Virtuous and untainted
Spotless and shipshape do I wannu be
But its muddy water this lfe
So i`l go beneath heaps of mud
Cause however much of muddy water

[...] Read more

poem by Dr DHANA LAKSHMI
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Black Muddy River

When the last rose of summer pricks my finger,
And the hot sun chills me to the bone,
When I cant hear the song for the singer,
And I cant tell my pillow from a stone,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
When the last bolt of sunshine hits the mountain,
And the stars start to splatter in the sky,
When the moon hits the southwest horizon,
With the scream of an eagle on the fly,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And listen to the ripples as they moan,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
Black muddy river, roll on forever,
I dont care how deep or wide, if youve got another side,
Roll muddy river, roll muddy river, black muddy river, roll.
When it seems like the night will last forever,
And theres nothing left to do but count the years,
When the strings of my heart begin to sever,
And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And dream me a dream of my own,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own, sing me a song of my own.

song performed by Grateful Dead
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The Big Muddy

Billy had a mistress down on a and 12th
She was that little somethin that he did for himself
His own little secret didnt hurt nobody
Come the afternoon hed take her wadin
Waist deep in the big muddy
Waist deep in the big muddy
You start out standing but end up crawlin
Got in some trouble and needed a hand from a friend of mine
This old friend he had a figure in mind
It was nothing illegal just a little bit funny
He said cmon dont tell me that the rich dont know
Sooner or later it all comes down to money
And youre waist deep in the big muddy
Waist deep in the big muddy
You start on higher ground but end up crawlin
Well I had a friend said you watch what you do
Poison snake bites you and youre poison too*
How beautiful the river flows and the birds they sing
But you and I were messier things
There aint no one leavin this world buddy
Without their shirttail dirty
Or their hands bloody
Waist deep in the big muddy
Waist deep in the big muddy
You start on higher ground but end up somehow crawlin
Waist deep in the big muddy

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies

I

'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,

II

So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.

III

It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.

IV

And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Hood
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Hollywood

Orange and yellow and purple and green
The lights of the city at night set the scene
Stumble through the bars of forget-me-not lane
Sparkle through the glitter but dont show the pain
In hollywood
Underneath a golden palm tree
Hollywood
Come to the party the drinks are on me
For free
Heartbeats echo through a cavern of love
Come to the tavern Ill meet you up above
Soaring through the heavens, what a fabulous ride
But everybodys heading for the same place to hide
In hollywood
Underneath a golden palm tree
Hollywood
Come to the party the drinks are on me
For free
The drinks on me
For free
The drinks on me
For free
The drinks on me
The drinks on me
The drinks on me
The drinks on me

song performed by America
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Muddy Water

I spend most of my life with this guitar
Playing my songs
Playing the role of a juggler
Hard and long
My pieces of this puzzle my life
I can't fit together
I seem shattered, and darkened down weather
Lost forever
See no one
No guest of my reflection been drawn
See no one, no one, no one
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I rolled over on nickels
Rolled and got out
I just kept on walking
Not knowing who I was
Where was I scarred and bleeding
Through blurred vision I saw freshened lines
Across the horizon
I was out of my skull, I was torn, I was tired
See no one
No guest of my reflection been drawn
See no one, no one, no one
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
So just down another shot it's just one more ache in the morning
Take another hit it's just one more cell you'll be killing'
Have another beer it's just a few more words you'll be yelling'
Go have your self a ball
And take two of these and call me in the morning
So don't stir up this dirt in this puddle and settle at the bottom
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
I try and pace my steps in an ordinary fashion through the doorway
Unfortunately I done stepped my foot in muddy water
Water, water

song performed by Nine Days
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Cyder: Book II

O Harcourt, Whom th' ingenuous Love of Arts
Has carry'd from Thy native Soil, beyond
Th' eternal Alpine Snows, and now detains
In Italy's waste Realms, how long must we
Lament Thy Absence? Whilst in sweet Sojourn
Thou view'st the Reliques of old Rome; or what,
Unrival'd Authors by their Presence, made
For ever venerable, rural Seats,
Tibur, and Tusculum, or Virgil's Urn
Green with immortal Bays, which haply Thou,
Respecting his great Name, dost now approach
With bended Knee, and strow with purple Flow'rs;
Unmindful of Thy Friends, that ill can brook
This long Delay. At length, Dear Youth, return,
Of Wit, and Judgement ripe in blooming Years,
And Britain's Isle with Latian Knowledge grace.
Return, and let Thy Father's Worth excite
Thirst of Preeminence; see! how the Cause
Of Widows, and of Orphans He asserts
With winning Rhetoric, and well argu'd Law!
Mark well His Footsteps, and, like Him, deserve
Thy Prince's Favour, and Thy Country's Love.

Mean while (altho' the Massic Grape delights
Pregnant of racy Juice, and Formian Hills
Temper Thy Cups, yet) wilt not Thou reject
Thy native Liquors: Lo! for Thee my Mill
Now grinds choice Apples, and the British Vats
O'erflow with generous Cyder; far remote
Accept this Labour, nor despise the Muse,
That, passing Lands, and Seas, on Thee attends.

Thus far of Trees: The pleasing Task remains,
To sing of Wines, and Autumn's blest Increase.
Th' Effects of Art are shewn, yet what avails
'Gainst Heav'n? Oft, notwithstanding all thy Care
To help thy Plants, when the small Fruit'ry seems
Exempt from Ills, an oriental Blast
Disastrous flies, soon as the Hind, fatigu'd,
Unyokes his Team; the tender Freight, unskill'd
To bear the hot Disease, distemper'd pines
In the Year's Prime, the deadly Plague annoys
The wide Inclosure; think not vainly now
To treat thy Neighbours with mellifluous Cups,
Thus disappointed: If the former Years
Exhibit no Supplies, alas! thou must,
With tastless Water wash thy droughty Throat.

A thousand Accidents the Farmer's Hopes
Subvert, or checque; uncertain all his Toil,

[...] Read more

poem by John Arthur Phillips
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Inebriety

The mighty spirit, and its power, which stains
The bloodless cheek, and vivifies the brains,
I sing. Say, ye, its fiery vot'ries true,
The jovial curate, and the shrill-tongued shrew;
Ye, in the floods of limpid poison nurst,
Where bowl the second charms like bowl the first;
Say how, and why, the sparkling ill is shed,
The heart which hardens, and which rules the head.
When winter stern his gloomy front uprears,
A sable void the barren earth appears;
The meads no more their former verdure boast,
Fast bound their streams, and all their beauty

lost;
The herds, the flocks, in icy garments mourn,
And wildly murmur for the spring's return;
From snow-topp'd hills the whirlwinds keenly blow,
Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below;
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies;
The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare,
And shed their substance on the floating air;
The floating air their downy substance glides
Through springing waters, and prevents their tides;
Seizes the rolling waves, and, as a god,
Charms their swift race, and stops the refluent

flood;
The opening valves, which fill the venal road,
Then scarcely urge along the sanguine flood;
The labouring pulse a slower motion rules,
The tendons stiffen, and the spirit cools;
Each asks the aid of Nature's sister, Art,
To cheer the senses, and to warm the heart.
The gentle fair on nervous tea relies,
Whilst gay good-nature sparkles in her eyes;
An inoffensive scandal fluttering round,
Too rough to tickle, and too light to wound;
Champagne the courtier drinks, the spleen to chase,
The colonel burgundy, and port his grace;
Turtle and 'rrac the city rulers charm,
Ale and content the labouring peasants warm:
O'er the dull embers, happy Colin sits,
Colin, the prince of joke, and rural wits;
Whilst the wind whistles through the hollow panes,
He drinks, nor of the rude assault complains;
And tells the tale, from sire to son retold,
Of spirits vanishing near hidden gold;
Of moon-clad imps that tremble by the dew,
Who skim the air, or glide o'er waters blue:

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Muddy Mississippi

Chorus:
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Swinging from the rope thats hanging free
And I drop in to the waters
And go swimming in the muddy mississippi
A boy came to the delta
And we would swing together from that tree
I could see my dreams in his eyes
As he held on to me
Swinging in the sunlight
Loving in the shadows
Wild and free
And I made him promise he would take me
Down to new orleans
Bright lights of the city made my red dress and shoes look brand new
While he worked the night shift
I turned on and I turned loose
I lost my pride I lost my man
I did things a girl like me shouldnt do
Now I cant face this living
With the swelling signs of new life
Showing through
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Hanging from the rope thats swinging free
And Ill swing for the last time over the waters
Of the muddy mississippi
Yeah the muddy mississippi

song performed by Reba Mcentire
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Muddy, Sam And Otis

Oh, yeah, I know, I know, I know
I remember
When I was only seventeen
The bohemian poet
And dosciple of the streets
Or was I just a little kid
Searching for identity in '63
Heard it on the radio
On a cold December night
It came burning down the air waves
Like a savior's shinin' light
All the way from the U.S.A.
Across the Atlantic far away
The magic came
The house began to rock
With Cupid and his bow
The hootchy kootchy man's
Lonely harp began to blow
Little did I know that
nothing in my life
Would ever be the same
Stayed up all night
Playin' every 45
Tryin' to sound like you
Strummed my guitar in bed
Till my fingers bled
Tryin' to play like you
*Thank you, Sam, thank you, Otis
Thank you Muddy
For the sounds you made
Thank you, Sam, thank you, Otis
Thank you, Muddy
For the times we shared
And they carry on
I saw Otis back in 1965
Tears in my eyes
As he sung "These Arms Of mine"
But angels needed a soul man
For the celestial blues band
They took him home (took you home)
Oh, what I'd give to see
That red mohair suit and hear
"Dock Of The Bay"
Or Sam in his two tone
Singin' "Bring It On Back Home"
What a show that would be
(*Repeat)
If I sound sentimental
It's because this blue-eyed soul boys
Got so much respect

[...] Read more

song performed by Rod Stewart
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Boat Drinks

Boat drinks
By: jimmy buffett
1979
Boat drinks
Boys in the band ordered boat drinks
Visitors scored on the home rink
Everything seems to be wrong
Lately, newspaper mentioned cheap air fare
I gotta to fly to saint somewhere
Im close to bodily harm
Twenty degrees and the hockey games on
Nobody cares they are way too far gone
Screamin boat drinks, something to keep em all warm
This mornin, I shot six holes in my freezer
I think I got cabin fever
Somebody sound the alarm
Id like to go where the pace of lifes slow
Could you beam me somewhere mr. scott?
Any ol place here on earth or in space
You pick the century and Ill pick the spot
Oh I know, (I know)
I should be leaving this climate
I got a verse but cant rhyme it
I gotta go where its warm
Boat drinks
Waitress I need two more boat drinks
Then Im headin south fore my dream shrinks
I gotta go where its warm (I gotta go where its warm)
I gotta go where its warm (I gotta go where its warm)
I gotta go where its warm!
I gotta go where there aint any snow
Where there aint any blow
cause my fin sinks so low
I gotta go where its warm
Notes -
Background vocals: deborah mccoll, harry dailey, jimmy buffett

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
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Cowboy Dan

Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
Hes gonna start a war
He hops in his pickup puts the pedal to the floor
And says I got mine but I want more
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
He drove the desert, fired his rifle in the sky
And says, God if I have to die you will have to die
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes the the reservation drinks and gets mean
I didnt move to the city, the city moved to me
And I want out desperately
Cant do it, not even if sober
Cant get that engine turned over
Standing in the tall grass
Thinking nothing
You know we need oxygen to breath
Whenever you are walking youre just moving the ground
Whenever you are talking youre just moving your mouth
Where ever you look youre just looking down
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
Hes gonna start a war
He hops in his pickup puts the pedal to the floor
And says I got mine but I want more
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
He drove the desert, fired his rifle in the sky
And says, God if I have to die you will have to die
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes the the reservation drinks and gets mean
I didnt move to the city, the city moved to me
And I want out desperately
Cant do it, not even if sober
Cant get that engine turned over

song performed by Modest Mouse
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Gareth And Lynette

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent,
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
'How he went down,' said Gareth, 'as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use--O senseless cataract,
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy--
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall
Linger with vacillating obedience,
Prisoned, and kept and coaxed and whistled to--
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Asked me to tilt with him, the proven knight.
Modred for want of worthier was the judge.
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
"Thou hast half prevailed against me," said so--he--
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?'

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair
Asked, 'Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laughed,
'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.'
'Then, mother, an ye love the child,' he said,
'Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved,
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.'

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 01 - Summer

"Oh, dear, this utterly sweltering season of the highly rampant sun is drawing nigh, and it will always be good enough to go on taking daytime baths, as the lakes and rivers will still be with plenteous waters, and at the end of the day, nightfall will be pleasant with fascinating moon, and in such nights Love-god can somehow be almost mollified...[who tortured us in the previous vernal season... but now without His sweltering us, we can happily enjoy the nights devouring cool soft drinks and dancing and merrymaking in outfields...]

"Oh, beloved one, somewhere the moon shoved the blackish columns of night aside, somewhere else the palace-chambers with water [showering, sprinkling and splashing] machines are highly exciting, and else where the matrices of gems, [like coolant pearls and moon-stone, etc.,] are there, and even the pure sandalwood is liquefied [besides other coolant scents,] thus this season gets an adoration from all the people...

"The beloved ones will enjoy the summer's clear late nights while they are atop the rooftops of buildings that are delightful and fragranced well, while they savour the passion intensifiers like strong drinks and while the ladylove's face suspires the bouquets of those drinks together with melodious instrumental and vocal music...

"The women are ameliorating the heat of their lovers with their chicly silken coolant fineries gliding onto their rotund fundaments, for they are knotted loosely, and on those silks glissading are their golden cinctures with their dangling tassels that are unfastened on and off, and with their buxom bosoms that are bedaubed with sandal-paste and semi-covered with pearly strings and golden lavalieres, and with their locks of hair that are sliding onto their faces, which locks are fragrant with bath-time emulsions, which are just applied before their oil bath...

"Brightly coloured with the reddish foot-paint that is akin to the colour of lac's reddish resin, adorned with anklets that are festooned with jingling bells, whose tintinnabulations on their stepping after stepping mimic the clucks of swans, with such feet those women with bumpy behinds are rendering the hearts of people impassioned, in these days of pre-summer...

"These days the bosoms of womenfolk are bedaubed with scents and sandal-paste, and they are given out to snowily and whitely pearly pendants that are sported on those bosoms, and even their hiplines are with the dangling golden griddle-strings, with such a lovely ostentation whose heart is it, that does not fill with raptures...

"The seams of limbs of ladies of age are conquered by the often emerging sweat, thus those peaky bosomed lustful ladies are presently banding their bosoms with softish fineries, casting aside their roughish apparels ...

"The rustles of air comprising the aroma of watered sandal-paste, blown off by the fans with peacocks' plumage, and the rustle of strings of pearls when the roundish bosoms of loves are hugged, together with the subtle melody of string instruments, and subtly sung intonations of singers, now appear to awaken Love-god, Manmatha, who is as though asleep after his manoeuvres in the last spring season...

"On leisurely seeing the faces of the maids that are comfortably sleeping well on the tops of whitish edifices, the moon of these nights is highly ecstasized, for he is unpossessed with any such flawless face, as his own face is flawed with rabbit-like, deer-like foibles, and when the night dwindles, he doubtlessly goes into state of pallidity, as though ashamed to show his face to the flawless sun...

"The intolerable westerly wind of the summer is up-heaving the clouds of dust, even the earth is ablaze, set by the blazing sun, and the itinerants whose hearts are already put to blaze by the blazing called the detachment from their ladyloves, and now it has become impossible for them even to look at the blazing earth, to tread further...

"The reigning sun's torridity rendered the animals parched, and with unquenchable thirst highly shrivelled are their tongues, throats and lips, and on seeing kneaded blackish mascara like mirages on the sky in another forest, that are cloudlike in their shine, those animals are rushing there, presuming them to be water...

"The women of charm are with smiles and slanted looks, and now they are on par with the twilights that are ornamented with a beautiful ornament called moon, and they are now decorating themselves confusedly and they are inciting the incorporeal Love-god in the hearts of itinerants...

"Extremely seared by the rays of sun, and even by the already seared dust on the pathway, with its slithery motion and downcast hood, repeatedly suspiring when being scalded thus awfully, that serpent is sinking down under the pave of peacock's plumage, distrait of the fact that a peacock is an enemy of serpents, thus distrait is the relative danger from a born enemy or from the searing summer...

"Thwarted are the valorousness and venturesomeness of that king of animals, the lion, for the thirst is abnormal, thereby gaping his mouth much lengthily, and suspiring repeatedly with a lengthened and dangling tongue, and repeatedly whisking his frontal hair of the mane, that lion is not pawing the elephants, though they are at his nearby, and though they both of them are born rivals, thus the scalding summer cooled off their mutual contempt...

"Verily dried up are their throats, but somehow some cool water remaining in their trunks is brought to those dry throats with the prehensility of their trunks, but too scanty is that water for those mega-vores, further muchly scorched by sun's scorching rays and overpowered by heightened thirst, even those water-seeking tuskers are unafraid of those nearby lions, as negligible is the physical danger than the natural danger...

"The scorching sunrays that are akin to the tongues of blazed up Ritual-fire, by them the bodies as well as the souls of peacocks are wilted, thus they wedge their faces in the pack of their plumage for certain coolness, and though they mark the serpents that are milling about under the very same plumage through the plumes and feathers, they peck not those serpents to death, as their priority is to cool off their faces and heads...

"The slime in the ponds is dried up but in some areas Bhadramusta grass is available, and while the herd of wild boars is digging up that grass with their long and broad snouts for a piggish slumber, the sunrays have highly sweltered their backs, but that herd dug the dry swamp more and more, as though to enter the interior of earth, to get a mucky, miry, muddy slumber...

"With the unbearable prickly heat of sunrays highly seared is a frog, and jumping up from a pond with mud and muddy water, it jumped to sit under the shade of a parasol, called the hood of a snake... neither thirstier frog is aware that it is the shade of a snake's hood, nor the thirstiest snake is aware that it is shading a thirsty frog...

"When each other elephant is highly huddling, belaboured is that lake by their elephantine limbs, and completely uprooted are the tall slender stems of lilies and lotuses of that lake, without any remnants of standing lotuses or lilies, thus trampled and agglutinated with mud, they are heaped up under the feet of elephants, and ill-fated are the fishes when trodden by elephants underfoot, and the Saarasa waterfowls are fleeing with fear of this rumpus...

"Akin to sunshine upcast is irradiance of the jewel on its hood, and wigwagging is its twinned tongue licking the air, and it is seared by its own venom, by fiery soil, and by the searing sun as well, and thus tottering thirstily, that hooded serpent is not draining the dregs of frogs, to the dregs...

"Frothily gaping and reeling are the two-pieced snouts, and jerkily extruding are the lightly reddened tongues, and staggering thirstily looking for water with upraised snouts, those herds of she-buffalos are extruding from the caves of mountain with such snouts and gaits, wherein they took shade from the scorching sun so far, but thirst drove them out of those cool caves...

"Extremely withered as though by wildfire and utterly shrivelled are the tender stalks of crops, and windswept by harsh winds they are uprooted and completely wilted and reduced to straw, and all over scorched are they in an overall manner as the water is evaporated, and if seen from highlands till the end of forest, this summer is foisting upon the onlookers a kind of disconcert, as the straw in the wind about the monsoon is unnoticeable...

"Perching on the trees with wilted leaves, flocks of birds are hyperventilating, the overtired troops of monkeys are going nigh of viny caves on the mountain, the water-craving herds of buffalos are rambling hither and thither, the straight flying Sharabha birds are nose-diving into wells and easily lifting up the water...

"The wildfire, that is simulative of a just blossomed bright and fierily ochreish safflower, is exceedingly speedy and further whipped up by the speed of the wind it is eagerly embracing the treetops, that are on the banks of lakes and rivers, with tongues of fire, onto which trees the apices of climber plants are eager to embrace, thus that wildfire has burnt down every quarter of land, in a trice...

"That wildfire, now intensified by the gusts, is blazing the valleys of mountains, and thus skittering across it entered the stands of bamboos, only to shatter them in a second with clattering rattles, then escalated by gusts it is overspreading the straw fields, then from their within, on smacking the perimeter of straw-field, it is broiling the herds of deer, tumultuously ...

[...] Read more

poem by Kalidasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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Amsterdam

This song was first released on the take me to tomorrow album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Of the dreams that he brings from the wide open sea
In the port of amsterdam theres a sailor who sleeps
While the river bank sweeps to the old willow tree
In the port of amsterdam theres a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries in a drunkin down fight
But in the port of amsterdam theres a sailor whos bom
On a muggy, hot mom by the dawns early light
In the port of amsterdam where the sailors all meet
Theres a sailor who eats only fish heads and tails
He will show you his teeth that have rotted too soon
That can swallow the moon that can haul up the I sails
And he asks to the cook with his amms open wide
Bring me more fish, put it down by my side
And he wants so to belch, but hes too full to try
So he gets up and he laughs, and he zips up his fty
In the port of amsterdam you can see sailors dance
Haunches bursting their pants, binding women to paunch
Theyve forgotten the tune that their whiskey voice croaks
And their splitting the night with the roar of their jokes
And they tum and they dance and they laugh and they lust
To the rats it sounds of the accordion burst
Then hes out into the night with their pride in their pants
With a slut that they tow undemeath the street lamps
In the port of amsterdam theres a sailor who drinks
And he drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks once again
He drinks to the health of the whores of amsterdam
Who have promised their love to a thousand other men
And they darken their bodies, and their virtue long gone
For a few dirty coins
And then when he cant go on
He plants his nose in the sky
And he wipes it up above
And he spits like to cry for an unfaithful love
In the port of amsterdam, in the port of amsterdam
In the port of amsterdam
Words and music by brel - shuman

song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nobody Drinks Alone

You brought that bottle home in a paper sack
Drew the blinds and locked the doors
And there's nothing but empty there inside that glass
So you pour a little more
And there's no one there to judge you
At least that's what you tell yourself, but
Chorus:
Don't you know
Nobody drinks alone
Every demon, every ghost
From your past
And every memory you've held back
Follows you home
Nobody drinks alone
You remember whiskey on your daddy's breath
So you always stick to wine
And you scared your little brother half to death
You just kept it all inside
You can hear your mama cryin'
Only now she cries for you, and
Don't you know
Nobody drinks alone
Every demon, every ghost
From your past
And every memory you've held back
Follows you home
Nobody drinks alone
Though you're only
Hey don't you let that feelin' fool ya
(REPEATH CHORUS)
Nobody drinks alone

song performed by Keith Urban
Added by Lucian Velea
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Battlefield

(paul carrack/nick lowe)
I live on a battlefield
Surrounding by the ruins of a love we built
And them destroyed between us
The smoke has cleared
As I stumble through the rubble
Im dazed, seeing double
And Im truly mystified
My new home is a shell-hole filled
With tears and muddy water
And bits of broken heart
All around, there is desolation
Scenes of devestation
Of a love been torn apart
I live on a battlefield
Though one where not one
Single drop of blood has spilled
Is no less horryfying
Sweet memories
Of a bygone situation
Lie shattered, torn and battered
And scattered all around
My new home is a shell-hole filled
With tears and muddy water
And bits of broken heart
All around, there is desolation
Scenes of devestation
Of a love been torn apart
Everything that can, has gone wrong
Its gonna take spine to carry on
Like a drownin woman coming up for air
Im looking for another survivor
I cant see one anywhere
My new home is a shell-hole filled
With tears and muddy water
And bits of broken heart
All around, there is desolation
Scenes of devestation
Of a love been torn apart
I live on a battlefield, hey
I live on a battlefield, hey
Cant go on, baby
Tears and muddy water
Scattered all around me, babe
I live on a battlefield
I live on a battlefield

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water

(words & music by joe babcock)
I was born in macon georgia
They kept my daddy over in macon jail
He told me if you keep your hands clean
You wont hear them bloodhounds on your trail
Well I fell in with bad companions
Robbed a man, oh up in tennessee
They caught me way up in nashville
They locked me up and threw away the key
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didnt come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
Well I asked the judge now whens my time up
He said son, oh you know we wont forget
If you try just to keep your hands clean
We might just make a good man of you yet
Oh I couldnt wait to get my time up
I broke out, broke out of nashville jail
I just crossed the state-line of georgia
Well I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didnt come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water (Rehearsal 07-29-70)

I was born in Macon Georgia
They kept my daddy over in Macon jail
He told me if you keep your hands clean
You won't hear them bloodhounds on your trail
Well I fell in with bad companions
Robbed a man, oh up in Tennessee
They caught me way up in Nashville
They locked me up and threw away the key
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
Well I asked the judge now when's my time up
He said son, oh you know we won't forget
If you try just to keep your hands clean
We might just make a good man of you yet
Oh I couldn't wait to get my time up
I broke out, broke out of Nashville jail
I just crossed the state-line of Georgia
Well I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Whatever Gets You On

Picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
reached for my coffee cup
yes, I'm still waking up
late in the day now
what can I say now
some folks are morning people
I never was one of those
all the same
I'll get in the game
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
vodka and tonic
a touch of the chronic
I trade my days for nights
I love the city lights
none of your business
who I might sleep with
some things are bad for me
and some things I just can't resist
all the same (I don't worry)
I'll get in the game (I don't worry)
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
I'm feeling so free-wheelin'
and it's so hard to maintain
fascinate me
medicate me
'cause I can't get over the pain
picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
coffee and cigarettes
turn on the tv set
night time is falling
people are calling
I like to watch them run
round and round and round
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now

[...] Read more

song performed by Fastball
Added by Lucian Velea
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