I tried to learn the violin for a while.
quote by Peter Wright
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[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
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Violin
Four strings across the bridge,
Ready to carry me over,
Over the quavers, drunk in the bars,
Out of the realm of the orchestra,
Out of the realm of the orchestra.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Filling me up with the shivers and quivers.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Paganini up on the chimney,
Lord of the dance,
With nero and old nicky.
Whack that devil
Into my fiddlestick!
Give me the banshees for b.v.s,*
Give me the banshees for b.v.s.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-dee.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-diddle-dee-dee!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
song performed by Kate Bush
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Cremona Violin
Part First
Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door.
A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind
Swirled through the trees, and scattered leaves before
Her on the clean, flagged path. The sky behind
The distant town was black, and sharp defined
Against it shone the lines of roofs and towers,
Superimposed and flat like cardboard flowers.
A pasted city on a purple ground,
Picked out with luminous paint, it seemed. The cloud
Split on an edge of lightning, and a sound
Of rivers full and rushing boomed through bowed,
Tossed, hissing branches. Thunder rumbled loud
Beyond the town fast swallowing into gloom.
Frau Altgelt closed the windows of each room.
She bustled round to shake by constant moving
The strange, weird atmosphere. She stirred the fire,
She twitched the supper-cloth as though improving
Its careful setting, then her own attire
Came in for notice, tiptoeing higher and higher
She peered into the wall-glass, now adjusting
A straying lock, or else a ribbon thrusting
This way or that to suit her. At last sitting,
Or rather plumping down upon a chair,
She took her work, the stocking she was knitting,
And watched the rain upon the window glare
In white, bright drops. Through the black glass a flare
Of lightning squirmed about her needles. 'Oh!'
She cried. 'What can be keeping Theodore so!'
A roll of thunder set the casements clapping.
Frau Altgelt flung her work aside and ran,
Pulled open the house door, with kerchief flapping
She stood and gazed along the street. A man
Flung back the garden-gate and nearly ran
Her down as she stood in the door. 'Why, Dear,
What in the name of patience brings you here?
Quick, Lotta, shut the door, my violin
I fear is wetted. Now, Dear, bring a light.
This clasp is very much too worn and thin.
I'll take the other fiddle out to-night
If it still rains. Tut! Tut! my child, you're quite
Clumsy. Here, help me, hold the case while I -
Give me the candle. No, the inside's dry.
[...] Read more
poem by Amy Lowell
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Learn
when broken
learn
when happy
learn
when bored
learn
when you float and does not know what to do
learn just the same
when filled with idealism
learn
when fed with what you cannot swallow
learn again
when the times get rough and you want to kill yourself
learn, learn, learn
you still have many things to learn
faces of life
bodies of life
learn, learn, learn everything
do not surrender
for in truth, you do not do what you only want
you will also do what you are told to do
no questions asked
or you will be left out
or you will be not a part of the picture
this life
learn, learn, learn, always learn
do not surrender
live, learn, live, learn
you will soon do all that others will tell you
learn, learn and learn again
and sooner you will have learned everything
and then do what you want to do
with firm conviction
you know now what is right
and that is what you will do,
now without even being told
you have become yourself
but still learn, learn, and learn again
because
you might be wrong,
try thinking some more, learn
relearn, learn, learn, learn, forevermore....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Learn
I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
I recommend walking around naked in your living room
Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
You grieve you learn
You choke you learn
You laugh you learn
You choose you learn
You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn
song performed by Alanis Morissette from Jagged Little Pill
Added by Lucian Velea
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Learn
Learn, learn, learn,—
Our beautiful world is not a field for sheep;
Not just a place wherein to laugh and weep,
To eat and drink, to dance and sigh and sleep,
And then to moulder into senseless dust.
Learn, learn, learn,—
Look up and learn—you cannot look too high!
Not for the earthly wealth which brains can buy,
Not for the sake of gold and luxury—
Treasures corrupted by the moth and rust.
Learn, learn, learn,—
As one in whom the Lord has breathed His breath,
And aye redeemèd from the power of death—
Not as the dumb brute-beast that perisheth,
Not as a soulless, thoughtless, thankless clod.
Learn, learn, learn,—
With love and awe and patience—not in haste;
Drink deeply,—do not pass by with a taste;
O make your land a garden, not a waste!—
Your mind bright, to reflect the face of God.
Learn, learn, learn,—
The mystic beauty and the truth of life;
Search out the treasures whereof earth is rife,
Search on all sides, with pain and prayer and strife;
Search even into darkness. Do not fear.
Learn, learn, learn,—
With a true, steadfast heart, lay up your hoard;
God will sort out the treasures you have stored,
And set them in His bright light, afterward.
He will make all your difficulties clear.
Learn, learn, learn,—
Death is no breaking at a certain place;
We only pause there for a little space.
And then—you would not shame Him to His face?—
You, in His Image and own Likeness made!
Learn, learn, learn,—
Walk with wide-open eyes and reverent heart.
Worship as God the beautiful in art.
Though you see now but dimly, and in part,
All shall be clear in time. Be not afraid.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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You're The Violin
You're the violin
Nazareth
Some beat me like a drum
Some stroke me like a guitar
Some shake me like a tambourine
Some beat me into the wall
In the song of my life
Baby, you're the violin
Some blow me like a horn
Some slide me like a trombone
Some smoke me like a tuba dude
Some cut me like a saxophone
In the song of my life
Baby, you're the violin
When you touch me like you touch me
Don't it feel like a summer breeze
When you lay down in my lonely soul, ya
It brings me to my knees
Think i'm makin' love to you
Sweet baby, ya
When you touch me like you touch me
Well, don't it feel like a summer breeze
When you lay down in my lonely soul, ya
It brings me to my knees
Think i'm makin' love to you
Sweet baby, ya
Some beat me like a drum
Some stroke me like a guitar
Sh-sh-sh-shake me like a tambourine
Some beat me into the wall
In the song of my life
Baby, you're the violin
In the song of my life
Baby, you're the violin
(words and music by nazareth)
Copyright 1975 jenevieve music (bmi)
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Man Could Get Arrested
(tennant/lowe)
--------------
Do it (do it do it do it do it do it...)
Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it...
Do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now
Do it (do it do it do it do it...)
Late on tuesday evening, such a commotion in the street
Someone broke a window, and someones head got beat
A wave of breaking bottles, crashed across the city street
And someone got arrested, for the breach of the peace
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna ride (ride ride ride ride)
Dont hide (dont hide)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna stay (stay stay stay)
Dont say (say say say)
Prove it! (prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it)
How much longer are you gonna sit and talk to me?
You got so many problems and a split personality
You want to see a doctor before our love is tested
How much longer a man could get arrested?
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna ride (ride ride ride ride)
Dont hide (hide hide hide hide hide)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna stay (stay stay stay)
Dont say (say say say)
Prove it! (prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it)
Youve got your health, youve got everything, thats what my doctor said
You may not have much cash, but youve got a roof over your head
Of course I said I loved you, not just cause you insisted
How much longer a man could get arrested?
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna ride
Dont hide
[...] Read more
song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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~ Newton ~ Einstein ~ Marx ~ Derrida ~
~ Newton ~ Einstein ~ Marx ~ Derrida ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
June 6,2010
Bunkum to burn
Edit ill learn. ~ [A]
Creation ~ Destruction
Learn ~ Relearn. ~ [B]
Unlearn
Profiles learn. ~ [C]
Deconstruction
Reconstruction
In maze of confusion. ~ [D]
Bunk pseudo learn. ~ [E]
Paradigm shift of
En-Learn
Anchor to U-Turn
Is it Perfect Learn? ~ [F]
Half learn
Quasi-Queasy learn
Obscures cognition. ~ [G]
Wises confirm
To learn
Be not stern. ~ [H]
Pundits affirm
Verity learn
Else are
Hazy learn. ~ [I]
Neurotic Newton: Quips Learn Knowledge Is Vast
Enigmatic Einstein: Puzzling What You Learn Is Relative But
Materialist Marx: Thesis Antithesis Synthesis Is But Dialectical Tact
Delver Derrida: Deconstruction Is New Fuzzy Fact. ~ [J]
Wander I what
Do I accept but? ~ [K]
Burn in Learn
It’s my culmination! ~ [L]
[...] Read more
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Of Ancient Mastodon, Sleepy Bee & Young Men Who Leap Too Soon From Bridges - Nightingale Confesses Into Straighter Teeth
'...descend, and of the curveship lend a myth to God.' - Hart Crane
Pueri aeterna, septem cadens
Etiam plures ad
The boys eternal, seven falling
Too many more to come
Jamey Rodemayer
Tyler Clementi
Raymond Chase
Asher Brown
Billy Lucas
Seth Walsh
Justin Aaberg
Sub olivae, pacem
Ut vos omnes adoremus orientatio
Under the olive trees, peace
May you all adore this orientation
******
"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their
hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once
hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain."
- James Baldwin
'Ignacio goes up the tiers
with all his death on his shoulders.
He sought for the dawn
but the dawn was no more.
He seeks for his confident profile
and the dream bewilders him
He sought for his beautiful body
and encountered his opened blood
Do not ask me to see it! '
- Federico Garcia Lorca*
1
Even the pigeons on my stoop are silent now.
[...] Read more
poem by Warren Falcon
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God Needs Antonio
Your soul was lifted by the wings today
Hearing the master of the violin:
You praised him, praised the great Sabastian too
Who made that fine Chaconne; but did you think
Of old Antonio Stradivari?--him
Who a good century and a half ago
Put his true work in that brown instrument
And by the nice adjustment of its frame
Gave it responsive life, continuous
With the master's finger-tips and perfected
Like them by delicate rectitude of use.
That plain white-aproned man, who stood at work
Patient and accurate full fourscore years,
Cherished his sight and touch by temperance,
And since keen sense is love of perfectness
Made perfect violins, the needed paths
For inspiration and high mastery.
No simpler man than he; he never cried,
"why was I born to this monotonous task
Of making violins?" or flung them down
To suit with hurling act well-hurled curse
At labor on such perishable stuff.
Hence neighbors in Cremona held him dull,
Called him a slave, a mill-horse, a machine.
Naldo, a painter of eclectic school,
Knowing all tricks of style at thirty-one,
And weary of them, while Antonio
At sixty-nine wrought placidly his best,
Making the violin you heard today--
Naldo would tease him oft to tell his aims.
"Perhaps thou hast some pleasant vice to feed-
the love of louis d'ors in heaps of four,
Each violin a heap--I've naught to blame;
My vices waste such heaps. But then, why work
With painful nicety?"
Antonio then:
"I like the gold--well, yes--but not for meals.
And as my stomach, so my eye and hand,
And inward sense that works along with both,
Have hunger that can never feed on coin.
Who draws a line and satisfies his soul,
Making it crooked where it should be straight?
Antonio Stradivari has an eye
That winces at false work and loves the true."
Then Naldo: "'Tis a petty kind of fame
At best, that comes of making violins;
And saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go
[...] Read more
poem by George Eliot
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Blue Blooded Woman
Blue blooded womans
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
The lady I love loves silk and satin
She was raised uptown with a silver spoon
Well, I was born on a farm just south of jackson
We had an old ford tractor and a country moon
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes saks fifth avenue perfection
Caviar and dignified
Well, I live my life in wal mart fashion
And I like my sushi southern fried
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes a blue blooded woman, Im a redneck man.
song performed by Alan Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Father, With His Arthritic Hands
My father, with his arthritic hands
Closes his door, picks up the bow
Tucks the bit under his chin
Tunes it real low
My father can compete with the world's best bands
My father plays the violin.
His eyes are dim but the notes are clear
His hearing is faulty but we can hear
The songs that pour out from within
People outside stop to listen
When my father plays the violin.
He opens up another world
Far from stress and pain
I become a child again
As without a word
He picks up the bow, tunes it real low
My father plays the violin.
My father with his arthritic hands
Holds a magnifying glass to his eyes to read
He sits out there under the clear blue skies
Now that he can hardly walk
(Luckily my sisters are there when he needs to talk) .
And when its dusk and he enters within
Then with his arthritic hands
Father picks up his violin.
poem by Rani Turton
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Misaking A Mistress For A Violin
MISTAKING A MISTRESS FOR A VIOLIN
The man who mistook his mistress for a violin
is the subject of a book by J. M. Coetzee.
Mistaking music for a mistress is a sin
more serious than to eat bread without saying motsi.
When sex becomes a contest in which you subject
erotic will to your opponent, wife or wench,
don’t treat her like a piece of bread, and don’t object
if she declares she is not ready yet to bensch.
Motsi is the Hebrew name of a piece of bread a Jew may not eat before saying a blessing, hamotsi lehem min ha’arets, meaning “He who brings forth bread from the earth.” Bensch means “bless, ” and in the context of eating bread it refers to the blessing that in Hebrew is called birkat hamazon, meaning “the blessing for food.” Coetzee’s description of himself as “the man who mistook his mistress for a violin” is clearly an allusion to Oliver Sacks’s story of the man with visual agnosia who mistook his wife for a hat.
The poem was in part inspired by Tim Parks’s review of J. M. Coetzee’s “Summertime: A Fiction, ” a novel that may or may not be autobiographical (“The Education of ‘John Coetzee, ’” NYR (February 11,2010) :
Following Boyhood (1997) and Youth (2002) , Summertime concludes J.M. Coetzee's autobiographical trilogy. It is a teasing and surprisingly funny book, at once as elaborately elusive and determinedly confessional as ever autobiography could be. If Boyhood and Youth were remarkable for Coetzee's use of the third person (the author declining to identify with his younger self) and the present tense (a narrative device more commonly associated with fiction than memoir) , Summertime takes both distancing and novelizing a step further. Despite our seeing Coetzee's name on the cover and hence assuming the author alive and well, we are soon asked to believe that he is now dead, the book being made up of five interviews conducted by an anonymous biographer who is speaking to people he presumes were important to the writer during the years 1972–1975.
Coetzee writes about the affair he has, possibly fact, possibly fiction, with a psychotherapist called Julia:
John, she says, was actually “a minor character” in a drama played out between herself and her husband. While the latter was traveling, the lovers enjoyed an “erotic entanglement” in the marital bed. Yet John was peripheral to her life; at the one moment when she was ready to leave her husband and he could have become a major player, he “took fright” and snuck out of the hotel where she was sleeping….Certainly there’s comedy to be had in the description of this willfully unassertive man partnering a woman who sees sex “as a contest, a variety of wrestling in which you do you best to subject your opponent to your erotic will.” “He was not in my league, ” Julia complains. When John tries to persuade her to moderate her lovemaking to fir the slow movement of a Schubert string quintet, the better to “re-experience” the sexual feelings of a bygone age, Julia shows him the door. “The man who mistook his mistress for a violin, ” she comments.
1/30/10
poem by Gershon Hepner
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An Essay on Criticism
Part I
INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.
'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,
[...] Read more
poem by Alexander Pope
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Re-Birth
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Sucker, nothing left to lose
Nothing left to choose
And suffer, everything you do comes back
And
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Then, I was only just a boy
Dying young and growing old
But I know what I knew was wrong
My whole family lied to me
By their rules, I cannot be
Led by the lies out of my face
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Nothing you did
You left me here for dead
Something in me
Just let me be
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
And if you think you got the answer
Well think again 'cause you know
Better than this yourself
So ask that question to yourself
[...] Read more
song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Re-Birth
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Sucker, nothing left to lose
Nothing left to choose
And suffer, everything you do comes back
And
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Then, I was only just a boy
Dying young and growing old
But I know what I knew was wrong
My whole family lied to me
By their rules, I cannot be
Led by the lies out of my face
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Nothing you did
You left me here for dead
Something in me
Just let me be
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
And if you think you got the answer
Well think again 'cause you know
Better than this yourself
So ask that question to yourself
[...] Read more
song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Where Have All The Flowers Gone?
Joan baez
Where have all the flowers gone? - long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone? - lone time ago
Where have all the flowers gone? - young girls picked them every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the young girls gone? - long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone? - long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone? - gone to young men every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the young men gone? - long time passing
Where have all the young men gone? - long time ago
Where have all the young men gone? - they are all in uniform
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the soldiers gone? - long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone? - long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone? - gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the graveyards gone? - long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone? - long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone? - covered with flowers every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the flowers gone? - hm hm hm ......
Where have all the flowers gone? - lone time ago
Where have all the flowers gone? - young girls picked them every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Where Have All The Flowers Gone
P. seger
Where have all the flowers gone
A long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone
A long ago
Where have all the flowers gone
Girl, theyre picked up, every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
Where have all the soldiers gone
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone
A long ago
Where have all the soldiers gone
Theyve gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
When will they learn, ever learn
When will they learn
When will they learn, ever learn
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
If you dont know what were talkin about
When we say this
Theres too many starvin children
If ya dont know what were killing each other
And we just aint got time for ya brother
No no hey hey ...
song performed by Earth Wind And Fire
Added by Lucian Velea
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Learn My Son
Learn my Son, my Mother said
From the things you’ve seen
To the things you have read,
For there is so much knowledge,
In our small World,
And when you learn it my son
It will become your pearl,
As you will shine it
And you will refine it
You will then display it proudly,
You will then profess it
A then you will confess it
And you will brag of it loudly.
Learn my son, my Mother spoke
As she talked from wisdom of age
As you can learn from many things,
Or by simply turning a page.
You can learn from a tree
If you would sit and watch a seed,
You can even learn from a poor man,
Just look upon his face, and you will be he.
Learn my son, my Mother cried
As tears came to her eyes
You can learn from tears and also smiles
You can even learn from a Child,
You can even learn, from me,
When I pass through my life,
You can learn from all men’s brothers
And why some only wish to die.
So take your knowledge and store it well
Protect it from all other men
For some Men need, what other men own.
And they will steal it as surely as you stand.
And when the years go by, and you're old and gray
In your mind many things will flow,
Some men have their wealth, many Men their gold
But their will be nothing more precious;
Than what you will know.....
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Added by Poetry Lover
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