Quotes about wolf', page 3
Wolves
(Wolf Howls)
I'm not a hunter but i am told,
that, uh, in places like in the arctic,
where indiginous people sometimes might, might, hunt a wolf,
they'll take a double edged blade,
and they'll put blood on the blade,
and they'll melt the ice and stick the handle in the ice,
so that only the blade is protruding,
and that a wolf will smell the blood and wants to eat,
and it will come and lick the blade trying to eat,
and what happens is when the wolf licks the blade,
of course, he cuts his tongue, and he bleeds,
and he thinks he's really having a good thing,
and he drinks and he licks and he licks,
and of course he is drinking his own blood and he kills himself,
thats what the Imperialists did with us with crack cocaine,
you have these young brothers out there who think they are getting something
they gonna make a living with,
they is getting something they can buy a car,
like the white people have cars, why can't i have a car?
[...] Read more
song performed by Dead Prez
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tundra Wolf Eats Wild Joy Life Survival
tundra wolf alone has survived vicious winter
alone without pack without companionship
has survived all challenges imposed in winter
fur very long dense fluffy soft survival postures
top hairs 150-160 mm guard hairs 80-150 mm
underfur 70 mm layers survival light grey colour
lower fur lead-grey upper fur reddish-grey ensures
wind composite layers in tundra wolf running
ranging over Arctic rim hunting prey life ensures
wild domestic reindeer snow sheep hares arctic foxes
feed power tundra muscles for long ranges running
make birth den in river valleys thickets in dry plateaus
rarely will tundra wolf make form permanent home territories
winter coast malting hangs on lone male wolf rough proud
looping across tundra landscape seeking reindeer migrations
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Cold winter night
It was a cold winter night.
All was deadly still.
My guts so tight
I must kill!
The cry of a wolf enters my head
Like a train whistle that echoes far away.
Can it be…something lives on this winter night?
Follow the sound and pray
It does not go away.
My hunger juices flowing; I go.
I and the wolf both now know
Neither is alone in the land of snow.
Oh, how I wish I had his sight
On this cold winter night
The north wind moved in the night before.
The ground all snow and bitter cold…so bitter cold.
The sky filled with stars.
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poem by Ronald Brissette
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The Love of Thyonichus
AESCHINES.
Hail, sir Thyonichus.
THYONICHUS.
Æschines, to you.
AESCHINES.
I have missed thee.
THYONICHUS.
Missed me! Why what ails him now?
AESCHINES.
My friend, I am ill at ease.
THYONICHUS.
Then this explains
Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache
And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw,
A wan Pythagorean, yesterday.
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poem by Theocritus
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A Season Of Growth: The Swan Road
Jarl (Old English eorl Earl) ‘a man of noble birth’; hence used as the title of hereditary Norse and Danish chieftains; later, of the royal liege-man next in rank to the king whom they followed. An old Norse and Danish chieftain or under-king.
Remember chill child channelling infamous ice,
listening intently as if awaiting what;
among helm heights of wind blown crags?
Straining to catch each Wodan word, dripping;
dripping slowly, from thrive thawing ice.
Grim grain weathered wheat waiting;
for birth bright born sun warmth water.
Hopelessly longing for season of growth
to burst forth heralded by ye breath of spring.
Jarl lifts face before wenian leave taking wind
to hail heavens these heraldic words Jarl cries.
“Mine ancestors have fought bleed died;
under eal earth’s parched foreign skies. eal A.S. all
Froth looting alien plain; raid memory;
was locked in all descendant brains.
Awaiting chill coming ravenous rains;
for raid warriors who draft row survived,
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Wolf
That was a time for falling,
I knew you well.
There was no time for calling,
Me when you fell.
This is a time to take cover ,
In a wishing well.
Summer was blowing all over me when you fell,
Sailors can take all the breathing
Out of the sail,
I took a trip when you needed me.
When you fell,
Waters were driving me
To a deep place
I close my eyes to see,
Your sweet face,
A coke inside me,
I slept in hell.
Angels can be so deceiving
When they love you well,
Did you think you would be leaving me?
[...] Read more
song performed by Veruca Salt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wolf At Your Door
Two a.m. with the lost and the lonely
Walkin past the kids, comin back from the party
Smiles on their faces, you remember so well how it was
Nights in the back of that buick that you got runnin
Your baby by your side, told the whole world youre comin
Chorus:
Work so hard to do what is right
Believed in what youre doin,
But so many fights
Trusted too many, believed too much,
Workin your life to the bone
Theres a wolf at your door,
He wants your money, wants your soul
A wolf at your door, you give it all, he wants more
Theres a wolf at your door,
He says hes playin for keeps
Breathin down your neck, boy
Its sure hard to sleep
With a wolf at your door
Theyll take it away, when youre not lookin
[...] Read more
song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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Golfre, Gothic Swiss Tale
I.
Where freezing wastes of dazzl'ing Snow
O'er LEMAN'S Lake rose, tow'ring;
The BARON GOLFRE'S Castle strong
Was seen, the silv'ry peaks among,
With ramparts, darkly low'ring!--
Tall Battlements of flint, uprose,
Long shadowing down the valley,
A grove of sombre Pine, antique,
Amid the white expanse would break,
In many a gloomy alley.
A strong portcullis entrance show'd,
With ivy brown hung over;
And stagnate the green moat was found,
Whene'er the Trav'ller wander'd round,
Or moon-enamour'd Lover.
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poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy
I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Wolf Moon
Though no longer amongst us
Their tradition and spirit lingers on
Like the names associated with
Each month's new full moon
A reoccurring theme in the cycle
When months are measured by moons returning
A practice common among indigenous peoples
In the month of January
A great moon rises slowly
And at night the Wolf pack howl out plaintively
For food is scarce and the wolves are hungry
To the First Peoples - The Wolf is brother
And only a brother can feel the pain of his brother's hunger
That is why the Native Peoples name January “Wolf Moon” in their brother's honor
Now to a museum, all too soon -The Tipi (tepee, teepee) has gone
Whilst within a reservation the Wolf Pack are free to roam
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poem by Chris Lane
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