No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
quote by Robert Frost
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Related quotes
Hard Rock Kid
(tom lang/additional lyrics by myles goodwyn & mike stone)
Published by goody two tunes, inc./additional publishers - bmi
The boy inside the man, looks hard into the night
The neighborhood cant get to sleep
The stereo is playing something hard and fast
The boy is tough, he plays for keeps
No ones gonna tell him hes too wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
In the shadows, theres a heart thats beating strong
And through the night, he feels the heat
Hes like a stranger as he dances on the stage
Hes made a promise that he cant keep
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a hungry child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a fine line, its a hard time, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
She watches as he turns, pretending not to care
And yet she knows the way he feels
The need for love so strong, together they can win
For now the musics all thats real
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Its Hard
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any man can claim - few can find
Any man can claim - few can find
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Everyone complains - few can state
Everyone complains - few can state
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Cellophane Spirit: Improvisation 10 19 2004
Old men have seen a memory blown by sleeping,
wails of grief kisses sucked up excavated noses
soul stirring psalms to the very top of the lung
energy boasts of a golden but feared recall, I
have seen the fingering of Miles Davis’ trumpet
wail of sex instincts on Stella by Starlight sung
Jesus looking for guileless disciples in the gilded
night I have seen a memory, driven by alleys of
Georgetown fences, noted gentries out-of-the-way
welcome entries, walked to mama’s down at the
very end of towns, P Street’s dead turn onto the
Avenue of murderer’s row in a town’s strip of
social clubs, I have walked sidewalk storm drains
from stoops of filth down to Main & Baltimore
streets, I have seen memory collect in the smaller
towns of Shelbyville, Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio,
Tennessee, and Springfield, Illinois, cellophane
swathes the memory, what’s known of selected
service towns, soldiers never coming home,
where divine earth gardens of herbs, salts, and
sugary loves are grown, I have seen a memory
stripped off every language, a cappella chanting
of soliloquists, ritual Griot and orphaned rappers
of cellophane spirit; porno on sheets of exhibited
joy, I have seen a memory cruising the boulevards
to The Louver and the mall to The Smithsonian, got
down with nightfall song on Martin Luther King Jr.
Avenues with whores pimps of priest and mothers,
LEE MACK
(Cellophane Spirit, Page 2)
memory eyes that burn high with desire set afire
the fricative nature of her cellophane spirit,
I have seen a memory of towns of orphaned sons
bound for locomotive dreams there in old houses on
Rose Street, Spanish laborers now rent overcrowded
dream Tudor houses, mansions of memories now city
neighbors with funeral homes where strange crowds
gather in games of wake, I have seen a memory
for the dead a picnic and a park of spirits set aside
in stone, strange crowds in games of joy a girl’s legs
too young consent to cellophane; raps disown me,
[...] Read more
poem by Lee B. Mack
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The Garden of Years
I
I have shut fast the door, and am alone
With the sweet memory of this afternoon,
That saw my vague dreams on a sudden grown
Into fulfilment, as I oft have known
Stray notes upon a keyboard fall atune
When least persuaded. I besought no boon
Of Fate to-day; I that, since first Love came
Into my life, have been so importune.
To-day alone I did not press my claim,
And lo! all I have dreamed of is my own!
II
I have shut fast the door, for so I may
Relive that moment of the turn of tide—
That swift solution of the long delay
That clothed with silver splendor dying day;
And, with low-whispering memory for guide,
See once again your startled eyes confide
The secret of surrender; and your hand
Flutter toward mine, before you turn aside—
And the gold wings of young consent expand
Fresh from the cracking chrysalis of Nay!
III
I did not dare to speak at first. It seemed
A thing unreal, that with the air might blend—
That strange swift signal—and I feared I dreamed!
Ahead, the city’s lamps, converging, gleamed
To a thin angle at the street’s far bend,
And, as we neared, each from its column’s end
Stepped out, and past us, furtive, slipped away:
Nor could Love’s self a longer respite lend
The radiant moments of our shortening day,
That Time, the donor, one by one redeemed.
IV
We spoke of eloquently empty things;
Of younger days that were before we met,
The trivial acts to which the memory clings,
And in familiar spots unbidden brings
To mind, when graver matters we forget.
The sacred secret lay unspoken, yet
Hovered, half-veiled, between our conscious eyes,
Touched with an indefinable regret
For that swift moment of our love’s surprise—
[...] Read more
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1901)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hard Times
(jimmy dean/lyrics by myles goodwyn)
Published by acuff rose music, inc. - bmi
Hard times, hard times, hard times, hard times
When the college professor has no class
And the quarterback would rather pass
And the pump jockey complains of gas
Its hard times, hard times
When the taxi driver he cant hack it
And the tennis player cant stand the racket
When allies refuse to pack it, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
When the elevator cant find the floor
And the doorman he cant find the door
When they give to the rich what they take from the poor, its hard times
Seems your moneys gone before its spent
If youre not busted then youre badly bent
To give it away doesnt make any sense, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
Now grandma forgets how to knit
And the wise man has lost his wit
And my tailor feels unfit, its hard times, hard times
When the fashion models lost her poise
And santa clause smashes all the toys
When boys could be girls, and girls could be boys, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
When the clock on the walls got no time for jokes
And kreskin says its all a hoax
When the surgeon general chain smokes, its hard times
When the truck driver dont wanna truck
And the hockey player wont touch the puck
And the rock musician dont wanna fool around, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
Harder times, hard times
I was talking to this lady the other day and she was telling me..........
song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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How Hard Is It
(Mad Spider)
Wait a second, draw back, ban this here I come
Stick this business, stock me up, they took me coat with a stun gun
On a Sunday, a bloody Sunday, so what's the resume?
Heads got felt in the force I heard a Milky Way
I caught a heart attack when I heard my cousin (???)
In Avenue D. in Brooklyn New York City
ever since I used my man I moved to Jersey
But realistically, God, could of called me early
Cause I got a big bop I'm wanted by the block
I take a ruff-neck chicken make stop in stone top
Cause I roll with the army of sixty-eight
The Privates' don't make the orders it's the General that makes the wig-wack
Buy her back, buy a cat, I got scratched in a day to kidnap
and at night I was back and the Jeep got attacked by a gang that sold crack
But the posse was strapped it was nothin' but CRAP!!
I got cuffed in the back, in the jail there were rats
So I pulled out my mack to get out of this crap
Though I wish I could zap outta here but I quack like a dog
that pass gats so I put the gas mask on the mic
there were blasts cause I do it it's my task
And all the jumper the guys that I see to me pass the class
Check out the vocab, it'll get out, then get it, do it again
gift of the guy if you're good you're good, if you're bad you're bad
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
(Pras)
One, two (ONE, TWO), three, four (THREE, FOUR)
Hardcore (HARDCORE), hardcore (HARDCORE)
Yo, watch yourself for your health I'll snatch your last breath
Then I left you up for another one bites the dust
You couldn't ride me if you went behind the bush, gush
Leave the style alone, don't try to follow me
Cause a life of the hood make it a little triggery
So keep your eyes on the prize, don't be surprised
Cause on my half I may pull out a semi-automatic sixty-eight
watch around my back it's mainly static
Droppin' emcees like a bad habit
Here come the Pras with a new package
(Wyclef Jean)
Mad and they ignorance, think they can test the performance of an ancient (RAPPER!!)
Let me break it down in a dialect (BADDER!!)
Easier said than what the mono said
cause there's more than righter rapper, paid for the rapper be-bop
Cause he said everybody's rappin', them and they momma
So when I grab the mic I grab it like a gangster
Microphone sniper cause it'll be the prowler
(Mad Spider)
Launch it, it's trife, no magic, the realistic maggot
[...] Read more
song performed by Fugees
Added by Lucian Velea
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YOUR MEMORY [by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga & Muna Moons Ahmed]
YOUR MEMORY
[by Redscar McOdindo K’Oyuga & Muna Moons Ahmed]
Redscar McOdindo:
I’ve tried to forget your cultures
I’ve taken down all of your pictures
I’ve even changed my manners
And tried to get yet another missus…
I’ve cleaned out all of your drawers
I’ve painted over the scratches
From all our little wars
But it has never been a savory
To erase your memory.
Muna Moons:
I live beyond earthly possessions
I, I am your emotions
We have lost directions
Trying to conform to different directions.
You, you come in to ease these confusions
But we are lost. Are we lost in institutions?
Baseless yet holding on to unique fusions?
Redscar McOdindo:
Since you left
I’ve acted swift
To wander away adrift
And widen the rift
Between you and me….
Too hard has it been to shift
But I’ve put away every gift
That you ever gave to me –
Including your flowers and their vase –
And now everything is in its place
Except for one quandary:
Your Memory.
Muna Moons:
Honey, the flower dried
And the vase was then deprived
But its memory can’t be denied
I loved you so much it sighed
You loved me too much it died
And now that we are sidelined
Our memories we can’t hide.
[...] Read more
poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
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A Hard Rains Gonna Fall
(george: like to bring on a friend of us all, mr. bob dylan!)
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
And where have you been, my darling young one?
Ive stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Ive walked and Ive crawled on six crooked highways,
Ive stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Ive been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
Ive been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
Its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin,
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin,
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
What did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin,
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin,
Heard ten thousand whisperin and nobody listenin,
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded in hatred,
Its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, whatll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And whatll you do now, my darling young one?
Im a-goin back out fore the rain starts a-fallin,
Ill walk to the depths of the deepest dark forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
The executioners face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color and none is the number,
[...] Read more
song performed by George Harrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Works Hard For The Money
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything
Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there
It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times
[...] Read more
song performed by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Hard Rains A-gonna Fall
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
Ive stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Ive walked and Ive crawled on six crooked highways,
Ive stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Ive been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
Ive been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, and its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin,
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin,
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin,
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin,
Heard ten thousand whisperin and nobody listenin,
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, whatll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, whatll you do now, my darling young one?
Im a-goin back out fore the rain starts a-fallin,
Ill walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioners face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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One Life To Live One Life To Love
One life to live one life to love
Cherish the good disregard the bad
Good or bad, take it as a learning experience and move on in life
Both the experience has to be shielded and accepted as souvenir
Utilize bad experiences to improve today
Treasure good experiences for better tomorrow
And escort the life with confidence, honesty and pride
One life to live one life to love
Cherish the good disregard the bad
Happiness or Sorrow either cannot be borrowed
Life is incomplete without each other and both cannot be ignored
Both brings you different flavors and taste to life
Happiness keeps you sweet, Sorrow keep you human
Taste the life with varieties and not to be narrowed
One life to live one life to love
Cherish the good disregard the bad
Life is wonderful gift bestowed by god and honored by nature
Has to be respected and believed by every human and creature
Everyone’s role are defined and are here with the purpose, decided by creator
Educate the life on the laws of god and the laws of nature
Imbibe these laws of life by choosing god and nature as a tutor
In no way, one should violate the laws made by god and nature, rather then desiring to be a pauper
One life to live one life to love
Cherish the good disregard the bad
Live life with honesty, with purpose, with determination and pride
Live life with Joy, with happiness, with good values and principles
Live life to the fullest but within the laws of the god and the nature
Your existence should be respected and honored for all the good work you render or did for self, family, friends & for the rest of the world during your tenure and the stay on this earth in this life.
Your exit should be without any guilt and you should die with peace, smile and satisfaction.
No one can outturn their destiny
Think good, Do good and Be good, rest live it up to the god to decide
One life to live one life to love
Cherish the good disregard the bad
Pinky Lekhraj Porwal
poem by Pinky Porwal
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Alsace-Lorraine
I
The sister Hours in circles linked,
Daughters of men, of men the mates,
Are gone on flow with the day that winked,
With the night that spanned at golden gates.
Mothers, they leave us, quickening seed;
They bear us grain or flower or weed,
As we have sown; is nought extinct
For them we fill to be our Fates.
Life of the breath is but the loan;
Passing death what we have sown.
Pearly are they till the pale inherited stain
Deepens in us, and the mirrors they form on their flow
Darken to feature and nature: a volumed chain,
Sequent of issue, in various eddies they show.
Theirs is the Book of the River of Life, to read
Leaf by leaf by reapers of long-sown seed:
There doth our shoot up to light from a spiriting sane
Stand as a tree whereon numberless clusters grow:
Legible there how the heart, with its one false move
Cast Eurydice pallor on all we love.
Our fervid heart has filled that Book in chief;
Our fitful heart a wild reflection views;
Our craving heart of passion suckling grief
Disowns the author's work it must peruse;
Inconscient in its leap to wreak the deed,
A round of harvests red from crimson seed,
It marks the current Hours show leaf by leaf,
And rails at Destiny; nor traces clues;
Though sometimes it may think what novel light
Will strike their faces when the mind shall write.
II
Succourful daughters of men are the rosed and starred
Revolving Twelves in their fluent germinal rings,
Despite the burden to chasten, abase, depose.
Fallen on France, as the sweep of scythe over sward,
They breathed in her ear their voice of the crystal springs,
That run from a twilight rise, from a twilight close,
Through alternate beams and glooms, rejoicingly young.
Only to Earth's best loved, at the breathless turns
Where Life in fold of the Shadow reclines unstrung,
And a ghostly lamp of their moment's union burns,
Will such pure notes from the fountain-head be sung.
Voice of Earth's very soul to the soul she would see renewed:
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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Come As You Are (LP Version)
Come As You Are"
Come, as you are. As you were.
As I want you to be. As a friend.
As a friend. As an old enemy. Take your time.
Hurry up. The choice is yours. Don't be late.
Take a rest. As a friend. As a old memory, memory, memory, memory.
Come. Dowsed in mud. Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be. As a trend. As a friend.
As an old memory, memory, memory, memory.
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
Memory, memory, memory, memory (don't have a gun).
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun. Memory, memory...
song performed by Nirvana
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fighting Hard
Rolling out to fight for England, singing songs across the sea;
Rolling North to fight for England, and to fight for you and me.
Fighting hard for France and England, where the storms of Death are hurled;
Fighting hard for Australasia and the honour of the World!
Fighting hard.
Fighting hard for Sunny Queensland—fighting for Bananaland,
Fighting hard for West Australia, and the mulga and the sand;
Fighting hard for Plain and Wool-Track, and the haze of western heat—
Fighting hard for South Australia and the bronze of Farrar’s Wheat!
Fighting hard.
Fighting hard for fair Victoria, and the mountain and the glen;
(And the Memory of Eureka—there were other tyrants then),
For the glorious Gippsland forests and the World’s great Singing Star—
For the irrigation channels where the cabbage gardens are—
Fighting hard.
Fighting hard for gale and earthquake, and the wind-swept ports between;
For the wild flax and manuka and the terraced hills of green.
Fighting hard for wooden homesteads, where the mighty kauris stand—
Fighting hard for fern and tussock!—Fighting hard for Maoriland!
Fighting hard.
Fighting hard for little Tassy, where the apple orchards grow;
(And the Northern Territory just to give the place a show),
Fighting hard for Home and Empire, while the Commonwealth prevails—
And, in spite of all her blunders, dying hard for New South Wales.
Dying hard.
Fighting for the Pride of Old Folk, and the people that you know;
And the girl you left behind you—(ah! the time is passing slow).
For the proud tears of a sister! come you back, or never come!
And the weary Elder Brother, looking after things at home—
Fighting Hard!
You Lucky Devils
!
Fighting hard.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Rage Hard
(gill/johnson/nash/otoole)
Rage! rage! rage! rage!
Rage hard!
Laugh like the head of apollo
Young and strong on the wings of tomorrow
Rise up in millions get off your knees
Dispelling the demons
In the valley of danger
We all work together, sculptures in sorrow
With love light to follow, on
Sweet head of apollo
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
Let the tournament begin
Dont give up and dont give in
Strength to rise up, strength to win
Strength to save the wor(l)d from losing
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard
Rage!
Rage hard
Though blue eyes of children
They shine without fear
Hope is the future, with oceans of cheer
Nothing to fear
Theres nothing to fear
Though laughter of angels resounding
From heaven keep fighting the favours
Of charlatan saviours, charlatan saviours
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
Let the tournament begin
Dont give up and dont give in
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
I dont know which way to go
My loves like driven snow
When we past the test of time
My love you shall be mine
And if only, lost and lonely
Is all thats wrong with me, we ll be free
Be free, be free
[...] Read more
song performed by Frankie Goes To Hollywood
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Iliad: Book 22
Thus the Trojans in the city, scared like fawns, wiped the sweat
from off them and drank to quench their thirst, leaning against the
goodly battlements, while the Achaeans with their shields laid upon
their shoulders drew close up to the walls. But stern fate bade Hector
stay where he was before Ilius and the Scaean gates. Then Phoebus
Apollo spoke to the son of Peleus saying, "Why, son of Peleus, do you,
who are but man, give chase to me who am immortal? Have you not yet
found out that it is a god whom you pursue so furiously? You did not
harass the Trojans whom you had routed, and now they are within
their walls, while you have been decoyed hither away from them. Me you
cannot kill, for death can take no hold upon me."
Achilles was greatly angered and said, "You have baulked me,
Far-Darter, most malicious of all gods, and have drawn me away from
the wall, where many another man would have bitten the dust ere he got
within Ilius; you have robbed me of great glory and have saved the
Trojans at no risk to yourself, for you have nothing to fear, but I
would indeed have my revenge if it were in my power to do so."
On this, with fell intent he made towards the city, and as the
winning horse in a chariot race strains every nerve when he is
flying over the plain, even so fast and furiously did the limbs of
Achilles bear him onwards. King Priam was first to note him as he
scoured the plain, all radiant as the star which men call Orion's
Hound, and whose beams blaze forth in time of harvest more brilliantly
than those of any other that shines by night; brightest of them all
though he be, he yet bodes ill for mortals, for he brings fire and
fever in his train- even so did Achilles' armour gleam on his breast
as he sped onwards. Priam raised a cry and beat his head with his
hands as he lifted them up and shouted out to his dear son,
imploring him to return; but Hector still stayed before the gates, for
his heart was set upon doing battle with Achilles. The old man reached
out his arms towards him and bade him for pity's sake come within
the walls. "Hector," he cried, "my son, stay not to face this man
alone and unsupported, or you will meet death at the hands of the
son of Peleus, for he is mightier than you. Monster that he is;
would indeed that the gods loved him no better than I do, for so, dogs
and vultures would soon devour him as he lay stretched on earth, and a
load of grief would be lifted from my heart, for many a brave son
has he reft from me, either by killing them or selling them away in
the islands that are beyond the sea: even now I miss two sons from
among the Trojans who have thronged within the city, Lycaon and
Polydorus, whom Laothoe peeress among women bore me. Should they be
still alive and in the hands of the Achaeans, we will ransom them with
gold and bronze, of which we have store, for the old man Altes endowed
his daughter richly; but if they are already dead and in the house
of Hades, sorrow will it be to us two who were their parents; albeit
the grief of others will be more short-lived unless you too perish
at the hands of Achilles. Come, then, my son, within the city, to be
the guardian of Trojan men and Trojan women, or you will both lose
your own life and afford a mighty triumph to the son of Peleus. Have
pity also on your unhappy father while life yet remains to him- on me,
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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The Dream
'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!
So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.
Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,
To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,
[...] Read more
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Provide, Provide
The witch that came (the withered hag)
To wash the steps with pail and rag
Was once the beauty Abishag,
The picture pride of Hollywood.
Too many fall from great and good
For you to doubt the likelihood.
Die early and avoid the fate.
Or if predestined to die late,
Make up your mind to die in state.
Make the whole stock exchange your own!
If need be occupy a throne,
Where nobody can call you crone.
Some have relied on what they knew,
Others on being simply true.
What worked for them might work for you.
No memory of having starred
Atones for later disregard
Or keeps the end from being hard.
Better to go down dignified
With boughten friendship at your side
Than none at all. Provide, provide!
poem by Robert Frost
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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