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Well, actually, I do the voiceover for Quentin Sands.

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Stratton Water

“O HAVE you seen the Stratton flood
That's great with rain to-day?
It runs beneath your wall, Lord Sands,
Full of the new-mown hay.
I led your hounds to Hutton bank
To bathe at early morn:
They got their bath by Borrowbrake
Above the standing corn.”
Out from the castle-stair Lord Sands
Looked up the western lea;
The rook was grieving on her nest,
The flood was round her tree.
Over the castle-wall Lord Sands
Looked down the eastern hill:
The stakes swam free among the boats,
The flood was rising still.
“What's yonder far below that lies
So white against the slope?”
“O it's a sail o' your bonny barks
The waters have washed up.”
“But I have never a sail so white,
And the water's not yet there.”
“O it's the swans o' your bonny lake
The rising flood doth scare.”
The swans they would not hold so still,
So high they would not win.”
“O it's Joyce my wife has spread her smock
And fears to fetch it in.”
“Nay, knave, it's neither sail nor swans,
Nor aught that you can say;
For though your wife might leave her smock,
Herself she'd bring away.”
Lord Sands has passed the turret-stair,
The court, and yard, and all;
The kine were in the byre that day,
The nags were in the stall.
Lord Sands has won the weltering slope
Whereon the white shape lay:
The clouds were still above the hill,
And the shape was still as they.
Oh pleasant is the gaze of life
And sad is death's blind head;
But awful are the living eyes
In the face of one thought dead!
“In God's name, Janet, is it me
Thy ghost has come to seek?”
“Nay, wait another hour, Lord Sands,—
Be sure my ghost shall speak.”
A moment stood he as a stone,
Then grovelled to his knee.

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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

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Matthew Arnold

Sohrab and Rustum

And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,
And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream.
But all the Tartar camp along the stream
Was hush'd, and still the men were plunged in sleep;
Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long
He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed;
But when the grey dawn stole into his tent,
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword,
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent,
And went abroad into the cold wet fog,
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's tent.

Through the black Tartar tents he pass'd, which stood
Clustering like bee-hives on the low flat strand
Of Oxus, where the summer-floods o'erflow
When the sun melts the snows in high Pamere
Through the black tents he pass'd, o'er that low strand,
And to a hillock came, a little back
From the stream's brink--the spot where first a boat,
Crossing the stream in summer, scrapes the land.
The men of former times had crown'd the top
With a clay fort; but that was fall'n, and now
The Tartars built there Peran-Wisa's tent,
A dome of laths, and o'er it felts were spread.
And Sohrab came there, and went in, and stood
Upon the thick piled carpets in the tent,
And found the old man sleeping on his bed
Of rugs and felts, and near him lay his arms.
And Peran-Wisa heard him, though the step
Was dull'd; for he slept light, an old man's sleep;
And he rose quickly on one arm, and said:--

"Who art thou? for it is not yet clear dawn.
Speak! is there news, or any night alarm?"

But Sohrab came to the bedside, and said:--
"Thou know'st me, Peran-Wisa! it is I.
The sun is not yet risen, and the foe
Sleep; but I sleep not; all night long I lie
Tossing and wakeful, and I come to thee.
For so did King Afrasiab bid me seek
Thy counsel, and to heed thee as thy son,
In Samarcand, before the army march'd;
And I will tell thee what my heart desires.
Thou know'st if, since from Ader-baijan first
I came among the Tartars and bore arms,
I have still served Afrasiab well, and shown,
At my boy's years, the courage of a man.
This too thou know'st, that while I still bear on
The conquering Tartar ensigns through the world,

[...] Read more

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Reverse Reality

when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision
when one becomes somebody, it is actually nobody
when one happens naturally to be nobody, it is a real somebody by decision

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An Abc Of Inner Peace

inner peace: a to z (© Raj Arumugam, September 2008)

Inner peace is effortless, as it’s always there within.
One just has to see it.

And once one truly sees this inner peace – not with words or just
intellectually, but actually see this inner peace within – it is one’s, always;
no one takes away that…

Nothing and no evil and no violent force or even the most difficult
of circumstances in one’s life can remove that inner peace that one
sees within; but let one see this not as a word, or as a phrase
but as an actuality.

Feel that peace, see that inner peace and let it radiate always – for it is
the harmony within each and it is always one’s own.


A


Let amity be your constant companion….Be at peace with all beings, equally at peace with those near and those far, and thus walk hand in hand with amity as in a bounteous garden…





B


Be mindful of your blessings always…To be alive, to breathe in fresh air;
and to be with the family and the companionship of good fellow-human
beings; and the kindness of strangers; and the creatures of this world
and the flowers that bloom, and to have a place in this marvelous planet
of ours….all these too are blessings….

There is a life of the body in the domain of the physical, and
the legitimate needs of the body are just as important as
one’s inner needs…

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Rudyard Kipling

Frankie's Trade

Old Horn to All Atlantic said:
(A-hay O! To me O!)
"Now where did Frankie learn his trade?
For he ran me down with a three-reef mains'I."
(All round the Horn!)

Atlantic answered:--"Not from me!
You'd better ask the cold North Sea,
For he ran me down under all plain canvas."
(All round the Horn!)

The North Sea answered: -- "He's my man,
For he came to me when he began--
Frankie Drake in an open coaster.
(All round the Sands!)

"I caught him young and I used him sore,
So you never shall startle Frankie more,
Without capsizing Earth and her waters.
(All round the Sands!)

"I did not favour him at all.
I made him pull and I made him haul--
And stand his trick with the common sailors.
(All round the Sands!)

"I froze him stiff and I fogged him blind,
And kicked him home with his road to find
By what he could see in a three-day snowy-storm.
(All round the Sands!)

"I learned him his trade o' winter nights,
'Twixt Mardyk Fort and Dunkirk lights,
On a five-knot tide with the forts a-firing.
(All round the Sands!)

"Before his beard began to shoot,
I showed him the length of the Spaniard's foot--
And I reckon he clapped the boot on it later.
(All round the Sands!)

"If there's a risk which you can make,
That's worse than he was used to take
Nigh every week in the way of his business;
(All round the Sands!)

"If there's a trick that you can try,
Which he hasn't met in time gone by,
Not once or twice, but ten times over;
(All round the Sands!)

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On Calais Sands

ON Calais Sands the gray began,
Then rosy red above they gray;
The morn with many a scarlet van
Leaped, and the world was glad with May!
The little waves along the bay
Broke white upon the shelving strands;
The sea-mews flitted white as they
On Calais Sands!

On Calais Sands must man with man
Wash honor clean in blood to-day;
On spaces wet from waters wan
How white the flashing rapiers play,—
Parry, riposte! and lunge! The fray
Shifts for a while, then mournful stands
The Victor: life ebbs fast away
On Calais Sands!

On Calais Sands a little space
Of silence, then the plash and spray,
The sound of eager waves that ran
To kiss the perfumed locks astray,
To touch these lips that ne’er said “Nay,”
To dally with the helpless hands,
Till the deep sea in silence lay
On Calais Sands!

Between the lilac and the may
She waits her love from alien lands;
Her love is colder than the clay
On Calais Sands!

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David Carradine

Well I would never say to anybody that Warren Beatty got fired, but uh, I think he and Quentin fell out of love, and I think Warren told Quentin to hire me for the film.

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Then all of a sudden, Quentin Tarantino comes along and puts a song from 40 years ago in one of his films and they've suddenly discovered you. That was a real gift that Quentin gave me.

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You Might Actually Care

So many times my heart leans over
Psst David, look, she's pretty, she's nice, she could be your lover
So many times Heart tells me how great she is
Heart prods me: 'Hey what if that your first kiss '
Heart says: 'You've only seen this side of her but she's actually like this'
Heart says: 'This isn't your idea of her this is her' what hypnosis
Heart says: 'She thinks you're worth it '
Heart says: 'She's wants romance, she wants you, you're a perfect fit'
Heart prods me: 'Wouldn't it be wonderful if...'
Heart says: 'Hey she actually cares, don't wait take the risk '
Heart says: 'Hey come this is your chance, she's like your serif'
Heart says: 'You want her, no you need her, like dawn needs dusk.'
Heart says: 'Don't suppress your feelings you were made for it'

Deceit... could this be deceit... Heart are you my friend?

Because of this, no hopefully in spite of this I think you care
I think that maybe I could say this love, maybe it's love... do I dare?
I think you might actually truly value me
Maybe you don't know to say 'you're worth it' but I hope you think that
I sincerely hope if I love you it's for you, not the you I see
I want to love you for who you really are, I want to love you at
Every single, breathing moment of my life, if I say I love you
It means I want to spend my entire life with you, I really do
So now you see why I can't just walk up and say how I feel
I'm not sure if my heart will ever heal
It's destroyed by lust, deceived by Heart... I don't want to offer you that
No you deserve better, but what if you actually care... I dunno if I was at
Even though I want you to have someone better I can't help it
I love you or so I think, I wish I could take a hit
For you and just not pursue so that someone worthy might find you
I'm sorry for my selfishness too

But maybe you don't care... maybe you'd only accept another
I don't want to fall in love with an idea of you
But maybe you could actually love me
Maybe you return my feelings and because maybe you're the first one
Who actually cares. Or maybe Heart has won
Again... do you actually care? Can I say that I love you?
Or could I let you go?

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Thick At that! ...And Glossy!

How much admitted,
Actually exists?
If you talk about someone
In a negative light,
What makes that which is expressed,
Alright to dance on gossip licked lips?
Thick
At that...
And glossy!

How much admitted,
Actually exists?
We know of no one's true feelings,
But our own.
No conflicts inflicted will be felt,
With a depthness known,
No one knows...
Who's in bed with who,
And who is left alone.

But there is no stopping,
Having a fling or two
With someone new.
Who knows what to do,
With a stiffened bone!
How much admitted,
Actually exists?
How much has been changed
To arrange point of views,
By those who discreetly
Do what they do!

How much admitted,
Actually exists...?
Has driven misfits
To even more exposure.
And Rod Sterling has passed...
To worlds beyond Twilight Zones.
And he was very comfortable,
With discussing 'possibilities'!

If it is worthy to admit
Situations believed to be unfit...
One must sit and evaluate,
Being in someone's business not theirs...
How much actually exists?
And whoever committed an admission...
Please admit it!
So we can move 'that hell',
Away from here and us.

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Dove Grey Sands

Seein' life begin
Hear the oceans sing
It takes you back
Pulls you back
Brings you home
See your face in stone
A hollow moon above an aching sky
Silent night
Brings you home
Left without a place
Lonely inner space
That you can breathe
It's the essence of a love
My love
Lead by devotion
Celebrate (x2)
Celebration
Dove grey sands
Lead by devotion
Celebrate (x2)
Celebrate now
Dove grey sands
Narrow days alone
Pushing for the sun
Don't hide away
Burn to grey
One soul
Facing life alone
Numbers on a phone
To help you back
Send it back
Bring you home
Left without a place
Lonely inner space
That you can breathe
It's the essence of a love
My love
Lead by devotion
Celebrate (x2)
Celebration
Dove grey sands
Lead by devotion
Celebrate (x2)
Celebrate now
Dove grey sands
Feelin' like it's over
It's just the start
I can't hear you again
Dreaming of the ocean
As waves come in

[...] Read more

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Summerday Sands

I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lay together on the summerday sands.
I gave her my raincoat and told her, ''lady, be good!
And we made truth together, where no one else would.
I smiled through her fingers and ran the dust through her hands ---
The hour-glass of reason on the summerday sands.
We sat as the sea caught fire.
Waited as the flames grew higher
In her eyes.
We watched the eagle born ---
Wings clipped, tail feathers shorn
But we saw him rise ---
Over summerday sands.
Came the ten oclock curfew.
She said, ''i must start my car.
Im staying with someone I met last night in a bar.
I called from my wave top ---
''at least tell me your name!
She smiled from her wheelspin
And said, ''its all the same.
I thought for a minute, jumped back on dry land ---
Left one set of footprints on the summerday sands.
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lied together on the summerday sands.

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The Sands Of Time

From the beginning of this own world,
man has shed a million tears.
Tears for the pain they've had
in their lives and for all the
wasted years.
But the saddest tears that
ever fell, fell not from
just any man's eyes. But
they were shed by my Savior
and they stained The Sands Of Time.
And as the Father looked upon His
Son, He had to turn His face away.
And as Jesus hung upon that cross,
He gave His all for us that day.
And as the tears ran down His face,
as He cried, mixed with the blood
that flowed from His side. Oh what
a sacrifice of love and it stained
The Sands Of Time.
Oh yes it stained The Sands Of Time.
It stained The Sands Of Time.
The blood that was shed for a lost
and dying world, oh yes it stained
The Sands Of Time, of time.

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Indian Wedding

(orbison)
There once was an indian brave by the name of yellow hand
He fell in love with a maiden know as white sands
They vowed their love would last forever more
Then came the day that they had waited for.
Yellow hand brought her a golden feather
White sands said a prayer for good weather
The ceremonial dance grew loud and strong
Then yellow hand began their wedding song.
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight, we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.
Then they left the warmth of the raging fire
And rode into the hills climbing higher
And suddenly the snow came swirling down
They were lost the trail could not be found.
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.
They never returned from paradise
They went to their places in the sky
And the old ones still say when the snowflakes fly
If youll listen close youll hear him cry:
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.

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Sands Sift Between My Toes

If Fairy Dust could be sprinkled
Across the sands of time
It would undo all the harms I've done
To you and
To those and
Still to more of whom I do not know

But the fairies must have gone
Along with their magical dust
Instead of beaching under me
The sands drift over, around, and above

Grains gritting against my desperate pleas
I beg for them to take me
To the past
To the future
Unwilling, they say
It is here
Where I must stay

So here I have been left
To stand in stagnant air
Of guilt, of fear, of shame
Hand smacked each time I dare
To start life again with disengenuous flare

But blame the dust and sands I can't
Nor guilt, nor fear, nor shame
They are simply being true
To their birth, to their task, to their work

Inspired by these forces
I too must be true to
Whomever I am... or am not...
Or wish to...or wish not to be
In short, I must believe I add value
Just by me being me

As I think it, I can say it
As I say it, I can...
Reach out one more time
Eyes squinting recalling past smacks in my mind

This time mayhem does not make its way
No punishments doled
Despite the genuine truth be told
In its place a hearty laugh comes from the unknown,
'Go on about your life creature, for now you know.'

Suddenly, a quick of energy

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Pharsalia - Book VIII: Death Of Pompeius

Now through Alcides' pass and Tempe's groves
Pompeius, aiming for Haemonian glens
And forests lone, urged on his wearied steed
Scarce heeding now the spur; by devious tracks
Seeking to veil the footsteps of his flight:
The rustle of the foliage, and the noise
Of following comrades filled his anxious soul
With terrors, as he fancied at his side
Some ambushed enemy. Fallen from the height
Of former fortunes, still the chieftain knew
His life not worthless; mindful of the fates:
And 'gainst the price he set on Caesar's head,
He measures Caesar's value of his own.

Yet, as he rode, the features of the chief
Made known his ruin. Many as they sought
The camp Pharsalian, ere yet was spread
News of the battle, met the chief, amazed,
And wondered at the whirl of human things:
Nor held disaster sure, though Magnus' self
Told of his ruin. Every witness seen
Brought peril on his flight: 'twere better far
Safe in a name obscure, through all the world
To wander; but his ancient fame forbad.

Too long had great Pompeius from the height
Of human greatness, envied of mankind,
Looked on all others; nor for him henceforth
Could life be lowly. The honours of his youth
Too early thrust upon him, and the deeds
Which brought him triumph in the Sullan days,
His conquering navy and the Pontic war,
Made heavier now the burden of defeat,
And crushed his pondering soul. So length of days
Drags down the haughty spirit, and life prolonged
When power has perished. Fortune's latest hour,
Be the last hour of life! Nor let the wretch
Live on disgraced by memories of fame!
But for the boon of death, who'd dare the sea
Of prosperous chance?

Upon the ocean marge
By red Peneus blushing from the fray,
Borne in a sloop, to lightest wind and wave
Scarce equal, he, whose countless oars yet smote
Upon Coreyra's isle and Leucas point,
Lord of Cilicia and Liburnian lands,
Crept trembling to the sea. He bids them steer
For the sequestered shores of Lesbos isle;
For there wert thou, sharer of all his griefs,

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Metamorphoses: Book The Eleventh

HERE, while the Thracian bard's enchanting strain
Sooths beasts, and woods, and all the listn'ing
plain,
The female Bacchanals, devoutly mad,
In shaggy skins, like savage creatures, clad,
Warbling in air perceiv'd his lovely lay,
And from a rising ground beheld him play.
When one, the wildest, with dishevel'd hair,
That loosely stream'd, and ruffled in the air;
Soon as her frantick eye the lyrist spy'd,
See, see! the hater of our sex, she cry'd.
Then at his face her missive javelin sent,
Which whiz'd along, and brusht him as it went;
But the soft wreathes of ivy twisted round,
Prevent a deep impression of the wound.
Another, for a weapon, hurls a stone,
Which, by the sound subdu'd as soon as thrown,
Falls at his feet, and with a seeming sense
Implores his pardon for its late offence.
The Death of But now their frantick rage unbounded grows,
Orpheus Turns all to madness, and no measure knows:
Yet this the charms of musick might subdue,
But that, with all its charms, is conquer'd too;
In louder strains their hideous yellings rise,
And squeaking horn-pipes eccho thro' the skies,
Which, in hoarse consort with the drum, confound
The moving lyre, and ev'ry gentle sound:
Then 'twas the deafen'd stones flew on with speed,
And saw, unsooth'd, their tuneful poet bleed.
The birds, the beasts, and all the savage crew
Which the sweet lyrist to attention drew,
Now, by the female mob's more furious rage,
Are driv'n, and forc'd to quit the shady stage.
Next their fierce hands the bard himself assail,
Nor can his song against their wrath prevail:
They flock, like birds, when in a clustring flight,
By day they chase the boding fowl of night.
So crowded amphitheatres survey
The stag, to greedy dogs a future prey.
Their steely javelins, which soft curls entwine
Of budding tendrils from the leafy vine,
For sacred rites of mild religion made,
Are flung promiscuous at the poet's head.
Those clods of earth or flints discharge, and these
Hurl prickly branches sliver'd from the trees.
And, lest their passion shou'd be unsupply'd,
The rabble crew, by chance, at distance spy'd
Where oxen, straining at the heavy yoke,
The fallow'd field with slow advances broke;
Nigh which the brawny peasants dug the soil,

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A Camel's Dream

When he deserted me
I deserted water
When I deserted the water,
it lost its shine crying.
Trees were growing dark in their places
in the woods; that evening he came to take me
with him clearing the thick glow of the sunset hues
then came he to make a path a kind of road
At the end of the road
I became the back he can ride
deserting many things I so long have to long for
while I look at the village
through those green trees
with my deep eyes
I saw him waiving at me
to bid me goodbye.
I was already entering the desert
and a portion of his road became the whole
the entire road for me.
For the borders of the nation he ruled
were the horizons of the four directions,
the sand hills I walk on with him on my back
were always the initial spot I had departed.
Numerous mornings and evenings met
on the rooftops of the sandhills where the
next morning and the sun crossed.
Originally what he wanted from me
was some amount of water he could use,
always in the shape of the water
I obeyed him.
At the same speed as the sunlight speedy
falls on the ground, stars fell.
With the power of the star-falls
the water soaked itself down to the ground
and then to
the roots of the sands.
Whenever his forehead shined
with full of heavenly words
and thirstied,
I dug up the roots of the sands
where the water gathers and kept it
in my body.

When the sun rose,
everything except the sands were
under the power of the sun;
when the wind blew,
everything along with the sands were
under the windy flows.
There I took out the water from my body

[...] Read more

poem by anonym (22 June 2003), translated by Sangnam NamReport problemRelated quotes
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The State Of Non-meaning

so many sands
long term plans
so many grains of sands
on the beach on the mind of man
oh, i guess
so many poems composed
each poem has become a grain of sands
so many grains
from my mouth
to my hands to my feet to the beach to the sands of time
in search for meaning
when actually there is none.

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