Silence
Cast: Andrew Garfield, Liam Neeson, Adam Driver, Ciaran Hinds, Tadanobu Asano, Nana Komatsu, Shin'ya Tsukamoto
trailer for Silence, directed by Martin Scorsese, screenplay, inspired by Shusaku Endo (2016)
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The Tale of Gamelyn
Fitt 1
Lithes and listneth and harkeneth aright,
And ye shul here of a doughty knyght;
Sire John of Boundes was his name,
He coude of norture and of mochel game.
Thre sones the knyght had and with his body he wan,
The eldest was a moche schrewe and sone bygan.
His brether loved wel her fader and of hym were agast,
The eldest deserved his faders curs and had it atte last.
The good knight his fadere lyved so yore,
That deth was comen hym to and handled hym ful sore.
The good knyght cared sore sik ther he lay,
How his children shuld lyven after his day.
He had bene wide where but non husbonde he was,
Al the londe that he had it was purchas.
Fayn he wold it were dressed amonge hem alle,
That eche of hem had his parte as it myght falle.
Thoo sente he in to contrey after wise knyghtes
To helpen delen his londes and dressen hem to-rightes.
He sent hem word by letters thei shul hie blyve,
If thei wolle speke with hym whilst he was alyve.
Whan the knyghtes harden sik that he lay,
Had thei no rest neither nyght ne day,
Til thei come to hym ther he lay stille
On his dethes bedde to abide goddys wille.
Than seide the good knyght seke ther he lay,
'Lordes, I you warne for soth, without nay,
I may no lenger lyven here in this stounde;
For thorgh goddis wille deth droueth me to grounde.'
Ther nas noon of hem alle that herd hym aright,
That thei ne had routh of that ilk knyght,
And seide, 'Sir, for goddes love dismay you nought;
God may don boote of bale that is now ywrought.'
Than speke the good knyght sik ther he lay,
'Boote of bale God may sende I wote it is no nay;
But I beseche you knyghtes for the love of me,
Goth and dresseth my londes amonge my sones thre.
And for the love of God deleth not amyss,
And forgeteth not Gamelyne my yonge sone that is.
Taketh hede to that oon as wel as to that other;
Seelde ye seen eny hier helpen his brother.'
Thoo lete thei the knyght lyen that was not in hele,
And wenten into counselle his londes for to dele;
For to delen hem alle to on that was her thought.
And for Gamelyn was yongest he shuld have nought.
All the londe that ther was thei dalten it in two,
And lete Gamelyne the yonge without londe goo,
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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![William Cowper](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/william_cowper.jpg)
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 3.
SCENE I.-- Adam and Eve.
Oh, my beloved companion!
Oh thou of my existence,
The very heart and soul!
Hast thou, with such excess of tender haste,
With ceaseless pilgrimage,
To find again thy Adam,
Thus solitary wandered?
Behold him! Speak! what are thy gentle orders?
Why dost thou pause? what ask of God? what dost thou?
Eve. Adam, my best beloved!
My guardian and my guide!
Thou source of all my comfort, all my joy!
Thee, thee alone I wish,
And in these pleasing shades
Thee only have I sought.
Adam. Since thou hast called thy Adam,
(Most beautiful companion),
The source and happy fountain of thy joy;
Eve, if to walk with me
It now may please thee, I will show thee love,
A sight thou hast not seen;
A sight so lovely, that in wonder thou
Wilt arch thy graceful brow.
Look thou, my gentle bride, towards that path,
Of this so intricate and verdant grove,
Where sit the birds embowered;
Just there, where now, with soft and snowy plumes,
Two social doves have spread their wings for flight,
Just there, thou shalt behold, (oh pleasing wonder),
Springing amid the flowers,
A living stream, that with a winding course
Flies rapidly away;
And as it flies, allures
And tempts you to exclaim, sweet river, stay!
Hence eager in pursuit
You follow, and the stream, as it it had
Desire to sport with you,
Through many a florid, many a grassy way,
Well known to him, in soft concealment flies:
But when at length he hears,
You are afflicted to have lost his sight,
He rears his watery locks, and seems to say,
Gay with a gurgling smile,
'Follow! ah, follow still my placid course!
If thou art pleased with me, with thee I sport.
And thus with sweet deceit he leads you on
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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- quotes about corruption
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- quotes about sadness
- quotes about receiving
- quotes about illness
- quotes about death
- quotes about expose
Isabel
In a forrest pitch-dark
Glowed the tiniest spark
It burst into flame
Like me
Like me
My name Isabel
Married to myself
My love Isabel
Living by herself
In a heart full of dust
Lives a creature called lust
It surprises and scares
Like me
Like me
My name Isabel
Married to myself
My love Isabel
Living by herself
When she does it she means to
Moth delivers her message
Unexplaind on your collar
Crawling in silence
A simple excuse
Nana na nana
Nana na nana
In a tower of steel
Nature forges a deal
To raise wonderful hell
Like me
Like me
My name Isabel
Married to myself
My love Isabel
Living by herself
When she does it she means to
Moth delivers her message
Unexplaind on your collar
Crawling in silence
A simple excuse
Nana na nana
Nana na nana
[...] Read more
song performed by Bjork from Post
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![John Milton](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/john_milton.jpg)
Paradise Lost: Book X
Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
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![William Cowper](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/william_cowper.jpg)
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.
SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.
Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.
FIRST Angel.
Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.
SECOND Angel.
How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.
THIRD Angel.
O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.
FOURTH Angel.
Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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![John Milton](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/john_milton.jpg)
Paradise Lost: Book 11
Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn
From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
When angry most he seemed and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve
Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell
Before him reverent; and both confessed
Humbly their faults, and pardon begged; with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Praying; for from the mercy-seat above
Prevenient grace descending had removed
The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breathed
Unutterable; which the Spirit of prayer
Inspired, and winged for Heaven with speedier flight
Than loudest oratory: Yet their port
Not of mean suitors; nor important less
Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair
In fables old, less ancient yet than these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore
The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heaven their prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious winds
Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they passed
Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad
With incense, where the golden altar fumed,
By their great intercessour, came in sight
Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See$ Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung
From thy implanted grace in Man; these sighs
And prayers, which in this golden censer mixed
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring;
Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those
Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees
Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen
From innocence. Now therefore, bend thine ear
To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let me
Interpret for him; me, his advocate
And propitiation; all his works on me,
Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those
Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay.
Accept me; and, in me, from these receive
The smell of peace toward mankind: let him live
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
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Kami O Shin Jiru
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
Do you say a prayer when your feeling down
Do you believe that love can turn your faith around
Youre feeling high and low, but you dont know what to think
The world is full of saints who live their lives in sin
Dont ask the mirror ball you better ask yourself
I think you know the answers but maybe you cant tell
Youll see it all so clear just take a look inside
The judge you build inside your heart will always be your guide
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
Another day goes by and so does your life
You try to make some sense before your time to die
If you feel humility for something that is true
Youll find the secrets of this life deep inside of you
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
The innocent wont feel the judgement day
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
The innocent wont feel the judgement day
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
Kami o shin jiru
The innocent wont feel the judgement day
song performed by Scorpions
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![John Milton](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/john_milton.jpg)
Paradise Lost: Book 09
No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:
If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring
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poem by John Milton
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![La Fontaine](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/la_fontaine.jpg)
The Ear-Maker And The Mould-Mender
WHEN William went from home (a trader styled):
Six months his better half he left with child,
A simple, comely, modest, youthful dame,
Whose name was Alice; from Champaign she came.
Her neighbour Andrew visits now would pay;
With what intention, needless 'tis to say:
A master who but rarely spread his net,
But, first or last, with full success he met;
And cunning was the bird that 'scaped his snare;
Without surrendering a feather there.
QUITE raw was Alice; for his purpose fit;
Not overburdened with a store of wit;
Of this indeed she could not be accused,
And Cupid's wiles by her were never used;
Poor lady, all with her was honest part,
And naught she knew of stratagem or art.
HER husband then away, and she alone,
This neighbour came, and in a whining tone,
To her observed, when compliments were o'er:--
I'm all astonishment, and you deplore,
To find that neighbour William's gone from hence,
And left your child's completing in suspense,
Which now you bear within, and much I fear,
That when 'tis born you'll find it wants an ear.
Your looks sufficiently the fact proclaim,
For many instances I've known the same.
Good heav'ns! replied the lady in a fright;
What say you, pray?--the infant won't be right!
Shall I be mother to a one-eared child?
And know you no relief that's certain styled?
Oh yes, there is, rejoined the crafty knave,
From such mishap I can the baby save;
Yet solemnly I vow, for none but you
I'd undertake the toilsome job to do.
The ills of others, if I may be plain,
Except your husband's, never give me pain;
But him I'd serve for ever, while I've breath;
To do him good I'd e'en encounter death.
Now let us see, without more talk or fears,
If I know how to forge the bantling ears.
Remember, cried the wife, to make them like.
Leave that to me, said he, I'll justly strike.
Then he prepared for work; the dame gave way;
Not difficult she proved:--well pleased she lay;
Philosophy was never less required,
And Andrew's process much the fair admired,
Who, to his work extreme attention paid;
'Twas now a tendon; then a fold he made,
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poem by La Fontaine
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The Drunken Father
Poor Ellen married Andrew Hall,
Who dwells beside the moor,
Where yonder rose-tree shades the wall,
And woodbines grace the door.
Who does not know how blest, how loved
Were her mild laughing eyes
By every youth!--but Andrew proved
Unworthy of his prize.
In tippling was his whole delight,
Each sign-post barr'd his way;
He spent in muddy ale at night
The wages of the day.
Though Ellen still had charms, was young,
And he in manhood's prime,
She sad beside her cradle sung,
And sigh'd away her time.
One cold bleak night, the stars were hid,
In vain she wish'd him home;
Her children cried, half cheer'd, half chid,
'O when will father come!'
'Till Caleb, nine years old, upsprung,
And kick'd his stool aside,
And younger Mary round him clung,
'I'll go, and you shall guide.'
The children knew each inch of ground,
Yet Ellen had her fears;
Light from the lantern glimmer'd round,
And show'd her falling tears.
'Go by the mill and down the lane;
'Return the same way home:
'Perhaps you'll meet him, give him light;
'O how I _wish_ he'd come.'
Away they went, as close and true
As lovers in the shade,
And Caleb swung his father's staff
At every step he made.
The noisy mill-clack rattled on,
They saw the water flow,
And leap in silvery foam along,
Deep murmuring below.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Bloomfield
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Cordell
Though once you ruled my mind
I thought youd always be there
And Ill always hold on to your face
But everything changes in time
And the answers are not always fair
And I hope youve gone to a better place
Cordell, time will tell
They say that you past away
And I hope youve gone to a better place
Time will tell, time will tell
They say that you past away
And I know that youve gone to a better place
Cordell, cordell
Cordell, cordell
Your lover and baby will cry
But your presence will always remain
Is this how it was meant to be
You meant something more to me
Than what many people will see
And to hell with the industry
Cordell, time will tell
They say that you past away
And I hope youve gone to a better place
Time will tell, time will tell
We all will depart and decay
And we all will return to a better place
Cordell, cordell
Cordell, cordell
Nana, nana, nana, nana
Nana, nana, nana, nana
song performed by Cranberries
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Death Alley Driver
Rough and ready rider
In a supersonic sound machine
Rock and roll survivor
Chrome pipes between your knees
Running all the red lites
Your gonna make a dead stop
But you just cant see the signs
Oh - youll never win the race
But you cant give up the chase
Death alley driver
Living at high speed
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...who knows what you need
Death alley driver...
One hundred twenty five smokin on the turns
Always on the hit and run
But you never learn...
Running from the man... and youre running
From yourself
Another dirty angel heading straight to hell
Oh - youll never win the race
But you wont give up the chase
Death alley driver...
Live in overdrive...death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...ride to stay alive
Death alley driver...
Lets go
Red lights in the mirror
Danger on the band
Got to take a detour cause a road blocks up ahead
He takes you on the corner with a wave of his hand
Death is in the back seat of a big old black sedan
Oh - youll never win the race...
As you turn and see his face...
Death alley driver...
Movin for the kill
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...
Time is standing still...
Death alley driver...
Always on the run cause youre a...
Death alley driver
Love the way it feels
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver
Hell on wheels...
Death alley driver... ooh -
song performed by Rainbow
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Easy Driver
Easy driver, shes a wicked rider
Shes smooth and shes skinny and shes probably mean
Easy driver, pull up beside her, roll down the window on this fine machine
Chorus:
(ooh ooh ooh) dont turn away, (ooh ooh ooh) just give me a sign
(ooh ooh ooh) dont be afraid, (ooh ooh) love is so hard to find
Easy driver, get on up beside her, she dont drive like she knows the way
Easy driver, roads getting wider
Theres room to run and she might skate away
Come on back, baby what you say
Chorus
One lane away from love, the story of my life
Could I be good enough for your lonely avenue tonight
Its a lonely avenue tonight
Chorus
Easy driver, shes a wicked rider
Shes smooth and shes skinny and shes probably mean
Easy driver, get on up beside her, roll down the window on this fine machine
Easy driver, oh oh oh oh, easy driver, easy driver, easy driver (easy driver)
Easy driver, easy driver, easy driver, easy driver
song performed by Kenny Loggins
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Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesly
Part the First
Mery it was in the grene forest
Amonge the leves grene,
Wheras men hunt east and west,
Wyth bowes and arrowes kene,
To ryse the dere out of theyr denne,
Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene,
As by thre yemen of the north countrey,
By them it is I meane.
The one of them hight Adam Bel,
The other Clym of the Clough,
The thyrd was William of Cloudesly,
An archer good ynough.
They were outlawed for venyson,
These yemen everychone;
They swore them brethren upon a day,
To Englyshe-wood for to gone.
Now lith and lysten, gentylmen,
That of myrthes loveth to here:
Two of them were single men,
The third had a wedded fere.
Wyllyam was the wedded man,
Muche more then was hys care:
He sayde to hys brethren upon a day,
To Carleile he would fare,
For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife,
And with hys chyldren thre.
'By my trouth,' sayde Adam Bel,
'Not by the counsell of me.
'For if ye go to Carleile, brother,
And from thys wylde wode wende,
If the justice may you take,
Your lyfe were at an ende.'
'If that I come not to-morrowe, brother,
By pryme to you agayne,
Truste you then that I am 'taken,'
Or else that I am slayne.'
He toke hys leave of hys brethren two,
And to Carleile he is gon;
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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Eden bower
It was Lilith the wife of Adam:
(Sing Eden Bower!)
Not a drop of her blood was human,
But she was made like a soft sweet woman.
Lilith stood on the skirts of Eden;
(Alas the hour!)
She was the first that thence was driven;
With her was hell and with Eve was heaven.
In the ear of the Snake said Lilith:—
(Sing Eden Bower!)
“To thee I come when the rest is over;
A snake was I when thou wast my lover.
“I was the fairest snake in Eden:
(Alas the hour!)
By the earth's will, new form and feature
Made me a wife for the earth's new creature.
“Take me thou as I come from Adam:
(Sing Eden Bower!)
Once again shall my love subdue thee;
The past is past and I am come to thee.
“O but Adam was thrall to Lilith!
(Alas the hour!)
All the threads of my hair are golden,
And there in a net his heart was holden.
“O and Lilith was queen of Adam!
(Sing Eden Bower!)
All the day and the night together
My breath could shake his soul like a feather.
“What great joys had Adam and Lilith!—
(Alas the hour!)
Sweet close rings of the serpent's twining,
As heart in heart lay sighing and pining.
“What bright babes had Lilith and Adam!
(Sing Eden Bower!)
Shapes that coiled in the woods and waters,
Glittering sons and radiant daughters.
“O thou God, the Lord God of Eden!
(Alas the hour!)
Say, was this fair body for no man,
That of Adam's flesh thou mak'st him a woman?
“O thou Snake, the King-snake of Eden!
(Sing Eden Bower!)
God's strong will our necks are under,
But thou and I may cleave it in sunder.
“Help, sweet Snake, sweet lover of Lilith!
(Alas the hour!)
And let God learn how I loved and hated
Man in the image of God created.
“Help me once against Eve and Adam!
(Sing Eden Bower!)
[...] Read more
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Sir Andrew Barton
The First Part
'When Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye;
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,
Over the river of Thames past hee;
When eighty merchants of London came,
And downe they knelt upon their knee.
'O yee are welcome, rich merchants,
Good saylors, welcome unto mee.'
They swore by the rood, they were saylors good,
But rich merchants they cold not bee.
'To France nor Flanders dare we pass,
Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;
And all for a rover that lyes on the seas,
Who robbs us of our merchant ware.'
King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde,
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,
'I thought he had not beene in the world,
Durst have wrought England such unright.'
The merchants sighed, and said, 'Alas!'
And thus they did their answer frame;
'He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas,
And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name.'
The king loot over his left shoulder,
And an angrye look then looked hee;
'Have I never a lorde in all my realme,
Will feitch yond traytor unto mee?'
'Yea, that dare I,' Lord Howard sayes;
If it please your grace to give me leave,
Myselfe wil be the only man.'
'Thou art but yong,' the kyng replyed,
'Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare.'
'Trust me, my liege, Ile make him quail,
Or before my prince I will never appeare.'
'Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have,
And chuse them over my realme so free;
Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes,
To guide the great shipp on the sea.'
The first man that Lord Howard chose,
Was the ablest gunner in all the realme,
Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten;
Good Peter Simon was his name.
'Peter,' sais hee, 'I must to the sea,
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Prince Liam the Brave
Young Liam loved Orange
and liked to wear ties.
To his firehouse friends
He was one of the guys.
He had his own locker
a slicker and hat.
He also had cancer,
and a bad one at that.
From early on in his life
he fought neuroblastoma;
An invasive tumor
a metastatic carcinoma.
His family who loved him
labored to save
their dear little child
Prince Liam the Brave.
He faced surgery bravely,
engaged in his fight..
He endured radiation,
Chemo and knife.
When many a New Yorker
complains about stress,
Prince Liam was stoic
When put to the test.
Then just before Christmas
he had a relapse
He became neutrapenic-
His immune system collapsed.
With blood in his urine
And a spot on his lung
Liam grew weak.
his defenses undone.
An Amethyst stone
he received from a friend -
his talisman of hope
that he held to the end.
There are brave fire fighters
Who’ll be fighting back tears
Brave Prince Liam has died,
He lived only six years
[...] Read more
poem by John F. McCullagh
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To All The Girls
Nana nanana Nana nanana
Nana nanana
I remember sunny days
Chillin' on the beach
And catchin' rays
Shell toed shoes the girls would wear
Pink bikinis everywhere
Listenin' to CDs after dark
Outkast blastin Rosa Parks
There's so much that we've been through
There's still so much more to do
Growing up can be so strange
But some things will never change
To all the girls that had my back
I'm with you when it's like that
To all the girls that sang along with me
To all the girls where I wanna be
To all the girls from here across the sea
I wanna thank you for being here for me
To all the girls that I can't wait to see
To all the girls that held it down with me
To all the girls that gave me memories
I wanna thank you for being here for me
Nana nanana
Nana nanana
Nana nanana
song performed by Aaron Carter from Another Earthquake!
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Songwriter
Im a songwriter and I know just where I stand
Im a songwriter, pen and paper in my hand
Get the words on the page
Please dont call me a sage,
Im a songwriter
Im a songwriter and I do it for a living
Im a songwriter and I write about men and women
I can write about love and the stars up above
Im a songwriter
Im a songwriter and Im hot on your trail
Im a songwriter and my cheques in the mail
I can move with the scene, I can make up a dream
Im a songwriter
Na na na nana, na na na nana
Im a songwriter I can do it for certain
Im a songwriter even do it when Im hurtin
And if it comes to the bit, have to write another hit
Im a songwriter
Im a songwriter I can put it in words
Im a songwriter and its not for the birds
I can spin you a yarn, its as long as my arm
Im a songwriter
Na na na nana, na na na nana
Im a songwriter
Na na na nana, na na na nana
Im a songwriter
song performed by Van Morrison
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The Queen of Jhansi
1st Stanza
The throne was shaken and tensions rose among the Raajvanshs, the royal heirs,
In aged India, new ideas were taking hold,
The people of all India lamented their lost freedom,
And decided to cast off British rule,
Old swords glittered anew as the freedom movement of 1857 started.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
2nd Stanza
She was as dear to the Nana (Nana Ghunghupant) of Kanpur as his real sister,
Laxmibai was her name, her parents only daughter
She'd been with Nana since her schoolgirl days
The spear, knife, sword, and axe were her constant companions.
She knew by heart the tales of valor of Shivaji
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
3rd Stanza
None were sure, was she Laxmi or Durga devi or Devi durga reincarnate?
The people of Marathward were awed by her (expertise) skill with the sword,
They learned from her how to fight, the strategy of war,
To attack and humiliate the enemy were her favorite sports.
Her love for Maharashatra-kul-Devi was equaled only by her love for Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
8) So was the Queen of Jhansi.
4th Stanza
Laxmibai was married in Jhansi, with great jubilation
Entering the joyous city as Queen,
Grand celebrations were held in the palace in Jhansi, in honor of her coming.
Just as when Chitra met Arjun or Shiv had found his beloved Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
So was the Queen of Jhansi.
5th Stanza
Her presence was a blessing at the palace of Jhansi and candles of celebration burned long
But as days passed the dark clouds of misfortune overshadowed the royal palace.
She put aside her bangles and prepared for battle
For fate was unkind and made her a widow
[...] Read more
poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan
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