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I think maybe ten years from now, I'm hopefully going to be, in like, Tahiti or something. Kicking back like in my huge mansion, if everything goes right, it's all up to me.

quote by Corey Haim
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Orlando Furioso Canto 20

ARGUMENT
Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,
While all Astolpho chases with his horn,
Who to all quarters of the town sets fire,
Then roving singly round the world is borne.
Marphisa, for Gabrina's cause, in ire
Puts upon young Zerbino scathe and scorn,
And makes him guardian of Gabrina fell,
From whom he first learns news of Isabel.

I
Great fears the women of antiquity
In arms and hallowed arts as well have done,
And of their worthy works the memory
And lustre through this ample world has shone.
Praised is Camilla, with Harpalice,
For the fair course which they in battle run.
Corinna and Sappho, famous for their lore,
Shine two illustrious light, to set no more.

II
Women have reached the pinnacle of glory,
In every art by them professed, well seen;
And whosoever turns the leaf of story,
Finds record of them, neither dim nor mean.
The evil influence will be transitory,
If long deprived of such the world had been;
And envious men, and those that never knew
Their worth, have haply hid their honours due.

III
To me it plainly seems, in this our age
Of women such is the celebrity,
That it may furnish matter to the page,
Whence this dispersed to future years shall be;
And you, ye evil tongues which foully rage,
Be tied to your eternal infamy,
And women's praises so resplendent show,
They shall, by much, Marphisa's worth outgo.

IV
To her returning yet again; the dame
To him who showed to her such courteous lore,
Refused not to disclose her martial name,
Since he agreed to tell the style be bore.
She quickly satisfied the warrior's claim;
To learn his title she desired so sore.
'I am Marphisa,' the virago cried:
All else was known, as bruited far and wide.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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King Solomon And The Queen Of Sheba

(A Poem Game.)

“And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon, . . .
she came to prove him with hard questions.”

[The men’s leader rises as he sees the Queen unveiling
and approaching a position that gives her half of the stage.]

Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sheba came to see King Solomon.
[He bows three times.]
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon.

[She bows three times.]
Women’s Leader: I was the Queen,
I was the Queen,
I was the Queen.

Both Leaders: We will be king and queen,
[They stand together stretching their hands over the land.]
Reigning on mountains green,
Happy and free
For ten thousand years.

[They stagger forward as though carrying a yoke together.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred oxen.

Congregation: We were the oxen.

[Here King and Queen pause at the footlights.]
Both Leaders: You shall feel goads no more.
[They walk backward, throwing off the yoke and rejoicing.]
Walk dreadful roads no more,
Free from your loads
For ten thousand years.

[The men’s leader goes forward, the women’s leader dances round him.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred sweethearts.

[Here he pauses at the footlights.]
Congregation: We were the sweethearts.

[He walks backward. Both clap their hands to the measure.]
Both Leaders: You shall dance round again,
You shall dance round again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
[The Queen appears to gather wildflowers.]

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The Booker Washington Trilogy

I. A NEGRO SERMON:—SIMON LEGREE

(To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.)

Legree's big house was white and green.
His cotton-fields were the best to be seen.
He had strong horses and opulent cattle,
And bloodhounds bold, with chains that would rattle.
His garret was full of curious things:
Books of magic, bags of gold,
And rabbits' feet on long twine strings.
But he went down to the Devil.

Legree he sported a brass-buttoned coat,
A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.
Legree he had a beard like a goat,
And a thick hairy neck, and eyes like dirt.
His puffed-out cheeks were fish-belly white,
He had great long teeth, and an appetite.
He ate raw meat, 'most every meal,
And rolled his eyes till the cat would squeal.

His fist was an enormous size
To mash poor niggers that told him lies:
He was surely a witch-man in disguise.
But he went down to the Devil.

He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day
To capture his slaves that had fled away.
But he went down to the Devil.

He beat poor Uncle Tom to death
Who prayed for Legree with his last breath.
Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew,
To the high sanctoriums bright and new;
And Simon Legree stared up beneath,
And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth:
And went down to the Devil.

He crossed the yard in the storm and gloom;
He went into his grand front room.
He said, "I killed him, and I don't care."
He kicked a hound, he gave a swear;
He tightened his belt, he took a lamp,
Went down cellar to the webs and damp.
There in the middle of the mouldy floor
He heaved up a slab, he found a door —
And went down to the Devil.

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Ten Minutes Aint Enough

Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.

Ten minutes aint enough!

Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.

Ten minutes aint enough!

There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.
And not drifting.

Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.

Ten minutes aint enough!

Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.

Ten minutes aint enough!

Some may wish a quick...
Beginning that swiftly ends.
With nothing to explore.
But an exit out a door!

Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.

Ten minutes aint enough!

There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sunday at Hampstead

I

(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL BY A VERY HUMBLE MEMBER OF THE GREAT AND NOBLE LONDON MOB.)

This is the Heath of Hampstead,
This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s;
Beneath, on the serried house-tops,
A chequered luster falls:

And the might city of London,
Under the clouds and the light,
Seems a low, wet beach, half shingle,
With a few sharp rocks upright.

Here we sit, my darling,
And dream an hour away:
The donkeys are hurried and worried,
But we are not donkeys to-day:

Through all the weary week, dear,
We toil in the murk down there,
Tied to a desk and a counter,
A patient, stupid pair!

But on Sunday we slip our thether,
And away from the smoke and the smirch;
Too grateful to God for His Sabbath
To shut its hours in a church.

Away to the green, green country,
Under the open sky;
Where the earth’s sweet breath is incense
And the lark sings psalms on high.

On Sunday we’re Lord and Lady,
With ten times the love and glee
Of those pale, languid rich ones
Who are always and never free.

The drawl and stare and simper,
So fine and cold and staid,
Like exquisite waxwork figures
That must be kept in the shade.

We can laugh out loud when merry,
We can romp at kiss-in-the-ring,
We can take our beer at a public,
We can loll on the grass and sing.

Would you grieve very much, my darling,

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
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Canto the Thirteenth

I
I now mean to be serious; -- it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.

II
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('T is an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain -- which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.

III
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 't is in request,
'T is nonsense to dispute about a hue --
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain woman.

IV
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 't is time to give the younger place.

V
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth

I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.

The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('Tis an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain - which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.

I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 'tis in request,
'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue -
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there 's a plain woman.

And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 'tis time to give the younger place.

I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.

And is there not religion, and reform,
Peace, war, the taxes, and what's call'd the 'Nation'?
The struggle to be pilots in a storm?
The landed and the monied speculation?
The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Spasmolytic

Kicking the (kickin')...habit (2x)
K... K.. Kicking the...habit (3x)
Making time in a low rent high-rise
Downtown!
Downtown... (11x)
Kicking the...habit (4x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit (4x)
Downtown (8x)
Swirling tastes phornicate rotted meat (2x)
Rotted meat... (8x)
She sits alone in the worry she's created (2x)
In the worry she's created...
Kicking the...habit (4x)
K...K..Kicking the...habit (2x)
Kicking the...habit (8x)
Kickin the habit (2x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit
Kickin the habit (2x)
No!

song performed by Deftones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rock 'n' Roll

Good day
I wanna see how everybody's doing!
[cheering]
Are you feelin' good?
[yeah!]
No-no-no-no-no, listen are you feelin' good?
[louder yeah!, music starts]
Was it worth coming out tonight?
[yeah!]
Are you sure?
[yeah!]
Are you 100% sure?
[yeah!]
Everybody come rock 'n roll with me?
[yeah! one guy in particular shouts really loud]
I roll 'n' rock, rock 'n' roll
I roll 'n' rock, rock 'n' roll
Kicking up in a brainstorm
[repeated]
Umm.. uhh... rock!
[guitars]
1, 2, 3... ahh!
Kicking up in a brainstorm
Kicking up in a brainstorm
Kicking up in a brainstorm
I roll 'n' rock, rock 'n' roll
I roll 'n' rock, rock 'n' roll
Kicking up in a brainstorm
[shouting]
1, 2, 3...
Kicking out the door
Kicking out the door
Kicking out the door
1, 2, [???]
[guitars]
[drums, real funky]
Ok, [??]
This is gonna be the last one!
[no!!]
This is gonna be the last one!
Get on the stage, i wanna...
I want some people to dance with me...
Ok, don't go waste the show

song performed by Prodigy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ruben's Mansion

it is not a house
in fact, it is a white mansion
placed on a one-hectare lot
surrounded by a well-manicured
garden and flowering shrubs
and fruit trees
one that everyone cannot but
always admire

when they come
and watch
Ruben's mansion
taking 2 years to finish
and 12 million pesos
in expenditures

as you go inside
the glass door opens
leading you
to a living room
twice as large
as my own house
in a remote barrio

the furniture are carved
from molave trees
shining with shellac
and glistening
with opulence
the motif of this
house

the kitchen is huge
four times as wide
as my garage
accommodating only
my second hand car

and the garage
is one that can handle
a party for the night
of ten tables and
fifty chairs and
a hundred people

one wonders
why Ruben has to make
a mansion like this

sheer taste perhaps

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Breathing-Time

Peace, perfect peace. . . . Come, lay aside your gun.
The danger zone is past; the gauntlet run.
The bark of Scylla ceases on her shore,
And grim Charybdis threatens us no more.
Respite, Nepenthe, leaning-posts and beer!
Football and horses! Breathing time is here!

O witless fools, who, with your cry, 'To Arms!'
Your warnings venomous, and false alarms,
Sought to estrange us from our yellow friends,
Thus all your potter and your bunkum ends!
We are secure once more; we breathe again.
No further need is there for ships or men.
'The Treaty is renewed!' Hip, Hip, Hooray! . . .
Now let us dream the happy hours away.

One pen-stroke! and our liberty appears
Secure again, for ten long, blissful years.
A diplomat or two, a little ink,
Some paper, and, Hi Presto! in a wink,
The Yellow Peril vanishes from sight,
Like vague dream shadows of a restless night.
Let gentleness and peace overspread the land;
And bid our infant warriors disband.

The War-god broods o'er Europe even yet?
What matter? We've a decade to forget
That e'er we dreamed we heard the grim dogs bark.
What child at noon is fearful of the dark?
The forges of the nations still are lit?
Their anvils ring? What do we reek of it?
With ten long years of peace and joy and light,
We laugh at our vague terrors of the night.

Are truces ever broken? Treaties scorned?
Statesmen corrupted? Diplomats suborned?
Perish the thought! What if, in some far day,
Some foreswom nation flung its bond away?
Shall we, for such as that, forego our joy,
And start at shadows, like a frightened boy?
Shall croaking pessimists, with mild alarms,
Force us, all needlessly, to fly to arms?

Down with the dolts who prate of ships and guns!
Stern Mars shall not enslave Australia's sons.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

ARGUMENT
Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,
Is healed, and weds, and bears her to Catay.
At length Marphisa, with the chosen band,
After long suffering, makes Laiazzi's bay.
Guido the savage, bondsman in the land,
Which impious women rule with civil sway,
With Marphisa strives in single fight,
And lodges her and hers at full of night.

I
By whom he is beloved can no one know,
Who on the top of Fortune's wheel is seated;
Since he, by true and faithless friends, with show
Of equal faith, in glad estate is greeted.
But, should felicity be changed to woe,
The flattering multitude is turned and fleeted!
While he who loves his master from his heart,
Even after death performs his faithful part.

II
Were the heart seen as is the outward cheer,
He who at court is held in sovereign grace,
And he that to his lord is little dear,
With parts reversed, would fill each other's place;
The humble man the greater would appear,
And he, now first, be hindmost in the race.
But be Medoro's faithful story said,
The youth who loved his lord, alive or dead.

III
The closest path, amid the forest gray,
To save himself, pursued the youth forlorn;
But all his schemes were marred by the delay
Of that sore weight upon his shoulders born.
The place he knew not, and mistook the way,
And hid himself again in sheltering thorn.
Secure and distant was his mate, that through
The greenwood shade with lighter shoulders flew.

IV
So far was Cloridan advanced before,
He heard the boy no longer in the wind;
But when he marked the absence of Medore,
It seemed as if his heart was left behind.
'Ah! how was I so negligent,' (the Moor
Exclaimed) 'so far beside myself, and blind,
That I, Medoro, should without thee fare,
Nor know when I deserted thee or where?'

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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10,000 Men

Ten thousand men on a hill,
Ten thousand men on a hill,
Some of m goin down, some of m gonna get killed.
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Drummin in the morning, in the evening theyll be coming for you.
Ten thousand men on the move,
Ten thousand men on the move,
None of them doing nothin that your mama wouldnt disapprove.
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
All clean shaven, all coming in from the cold.
Hey! who could your lover be?
Hey! who could your lover be?
Let me eat off his head so you can really see!
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Standin at my window wishing me goodnight.
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Each one of em got seven wives, each one of em just out of jail.
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Spilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up will a broom.
Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea!
Baby, thank you for my tea!
Its so sweet of you to be so nice to me.

song performed by Bob Dylan
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White Mansion

Big white mansion
Top of the road
Latest fashion
Happy, dont u know?
Here I am in new york, yeah
See the girl bold and fair (yo, anita!) {martin sample}
Whats in your backpack 2day?
Will it take my blues away?
Thats ok, u gotta run...
Huh, check it, I dont need u 2 have some fun
Comin from the land of snow
I guess Im kinda used 2 cold
But one day Ill have a big white mansion
At the top of the road
Im gonna wear the latest fashion
Im gonna be happy, dont u know?
I could use a new guitar
Sing a tune at chazz bar
Maybe meet a debutante
Be a toy, do what she want (tell me what u wanna do? )
9 oclock, see john k.
But u dont rock, come another day (when? )
Come another day
Spirit so low reachin up 4 ground (reachin up 4 ground)
One day Im gonna make it in this lonely town
Then Ill live in a big white mansion
At the top of the road
Im gonna wear the latest fashion
Then Ill be happy, dont u know?
Hey there, whats your name? (whats your name, cutie? )
And can u tell me how 2 play the game? (I am a winner) (listen 2 this)
Do I really have 2 cut my hair? (no)
Now, thats a cross I could never bear (how bout them publishing rights? )
Sell my publishing? what a laugh! (ha ha)
I dont know bo, but I do know math (I do know math)
Back 2 minneapolis, there u go
U cant find your house underneath the snow
Cuz ure livin in a big white mansion (oh yes)
At the top of the road
Ure wearin the latest fashion
Tryin 2 be happy, dont u know? (tryin 2 be happy, happy)
Big white, big white mansion (big white mansion)
At the top of the road
U and me wearin versace, gucci (latest fashion)
Hoochies, they all wanna do me (happy, dont u know? )
But am I really happy?
Big white mansion
Yeah, maybe one day
(yo, anita!) {martin sample}
(yo, check out that ass!)

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Whit Mansion

Big white mansion
Top of the road
Latest fashion
Happy, don't U know?
Here I am in New York, yeah
See the girl bold and fair ("Yo, Anita!") {Martin sample}
What's in your backpack 2day?
Will it take my blues away?
That's OK, "U gotta run..."
Huh, check it, I don't need U 2 have some fun
Comin' from the land of snow
I guess I'm kinda used 2 cold
But one day I'll have a big white mansion
At the top of the road
I'm gonna wear the latest fashion
I'm gonna be happy, don't U know?
I could use a new guitar
Sing a tune at Chazz' bar
Maybe meet a debutante
Be a toy, do what she want (Tell me what U wanna do?)
9 o'clock, see John K.
"But U don't rock, come another day" (When?)
Come another day
Spirit so low reachin' up 4 ground (Reachin' up 4 ground)
One day I'm gonna make it in this lonely town
Then I'll live in a big white mansion
At the top of the road
I'm gonna wear the latest fashion
Then I'll be happy, don't U know?
Hey there, what's your name? (What's your name, cutie?)
And can U tell me how 2 play the game? ("I am a winner") (Listen 2 this)
Do I really have 2 cut my hair? (No)
Now, that's a cross I could never bear (How 'bout them publishing
rights?)
Sell my publishing? What a laugh! (Ha ha)
I don't know Bo, but I do know math (I do know math)
Back 2 Minneapolis, there U go
U can't find your house underneath the snow
Cuz U're livin' in a big white mansion (Oh yes)
At the top of the road
U're wearin' the latest fashion
Tryin' 2 be happy, don't U know? (Tryin' 2 be happy, happy)
Big white, big white mansion (Big white mansion)
At the top of the road
U and me wearin' Versace, Gucci (Latest fashion)
Hoochies, they all wanna do me (Happy, don't U know?)
But am I really happy?
Big white mansion
Yeah, maybe one day
("Yo, Anita!") {Martin sample}

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cursed (story)

I am Bill.I live with my brother, my dad, mom and my lil sis.There's always this thing that bothers my mind..it's because i believe that my mom and sis already died.It was almost a yearago yet not that old to be forgotten.our house was burnt for unknown reason.They we're found dead on the room i was staying.Burned, yet there's still mystery upon their death.

I can barely remember that i see mere smoke and huge fire.i was just 7 yet my mind works as if i was not.After the tragic happenings the ocean made noise and i saw a huge wave comming towards our direction.Crowds of neigbors, the police, the rescuers and even i, my lil bro and dad run away.

our house was swallowed by that huge wave.After that i don't know what else happened.I hear my dad yell and my lil bro crying.I see blurry lights and hear the sirens.I was asleep! am i? i see the lights striking in my eyelids yet i can not see any image.i hear the sound of waves smashing unto rocks then i'm

shocked to reality i'm just sitting on the deck before the emergency room in the city hospital.I was wonderin' what i'm doin' there but 'twas just a couple'o seconds when i saw my lil bro and dad walked out the emergency room, smiling and waved on me.My dad shouted com'mon bill let's go home.okey, well my dad's calling me.Gotta go!

i really don't know what happened but as we go back to where our house was build it was still there standing steady and strong.I looked around i saw our neighbor's house burnt.and i said' oh, bla bla i really don't know what's happening! ' and asked dad 'dad i thought it was our house burned? '

and as i always hear from him dad answered in a huge voice 'what? are you out of your mind? '

then i heared a soft voice saying 'John, let him rest.Maybe he's hallucinating.he's from kelly's house beside the shore.we all knew it's almost impossible for him to survive that huge fire.'

my pores closed, my spines shivered..and my heart pumped fast...

i shouted' who's that'? ... MOM?

and the voice answered 'yes dear.'

my dad then said' LEt's took him to the doctor, maybe the accident affected his mind too.'

'but DAD! ! , Mom and tricia died already! '

he answered: 'That's not funny bill! if yu're thinking this is the right time to crack pranks.well ITS NOT! ! ..Go to your room! ! '

'but DAD? '!

'NO buts, go to your room.NOW! '

okey, it seems like i really am hallucinating..maybe i came over kelly's house and caused fire and cause of the pressure and i was so scared that i would be charged for the accident i run out of my consciousness..yeah..maybe that's what happened..

[...] Read more

poem by Ellirie Aviles
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Ten

ten is my lucky number
ten is the number that i assign
to a poem for
my day
ten is perfect
ten is one and zero
ten is a pillar and a moon
ten is
an exercise of that little child
ten is my count
of when things must end
ten is the number of sheep
in my dream
ten is not eleven
ten with another moon
becomes a
hundred
whatever you think of me
i rate myself
a ten
that is a matter of
personal decision
and if you die because of envy
it is because
ten has always been my favorite
number
even if i wallow
in my own
stupidity, i still cling to ten
because i am not yet perfect
and would soon
become one
Oh God, where are you?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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Helium

Fuel emotions, killing me
Pure devotion, cut and bleed,
Your the crystal, the ecstasy,
The drug that keeps feeding me.
So come on.
Torn together we sow the seed,
Bring the pleasure back for free,
The world is frozen but
I can taste new life every time I breathe.
So come on, get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high kicking in.
Change the system, break the shape,
New connection hands to make,
Find the honey and learn to taste again,
Bring it back again,
So come on.
Burn forever, learn to feed,
Find the pleasure its yours to keep.
The world is frozen,
But I can taste new life every time I breathe.
So come on, get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high, kicking in...
Get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high kicking in...
Come together, feel the heat,
Suck the life left right out of me,
The world is frozen,
But I can taste new life every time I breathe.
Every step I take,
Every drop I bleed
So come on, get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high kicking in...
Get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high kicking in...
Get in,
Take a ride, till you sink,
Come on, get in,
Lets feel a new high kicking in...

song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Alive & Kicking

You turn me on, you lift me up
And like the sweetest cup Id share with you
You lift me up, dont you ever stop, Im here with you
Now its all or nothing
cause you say youll follow through
You follow me, and i, i, I follow you
What you gonna do when things go wrong?
What you gonna do when it all cracks up?
What you gonna do when the love burns down?
What you gonna do when the flames go up?
Who is gonna come and turn the tide?
Whats it gonna take to make a dream survive?
Whos got the touch to calm the storm inside?
Whos gonna save you?
Alive and kicking
Stay until your love is, alive and kicking
Stay until your love is, until your love is, alive
Oh you lift me up to the crucial top, so I can see
Oh you lead me on, till the feelings come
And the lights that shine on
But if that dont mean nothing
Like if someday it should fall through
Youll take me home where the magics from
And Ill be with you
What you gonna do when things go wrong?
What you gonna do when it all cracks up?
What you gonna do when the love burns down?
What you gonna do when the flames go up?
Who is gonna come and turn the tide?
Whats it gonna take to make a dream survive?
Whos got the touch to calm the storm inside?
Dont say goodbye
Dont say goodbye
In the final seconds whos gonna save you?
Oh, alive and kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, alive and kicking
Oh, alive and kicking
Stay until your love is, love is, alive and kicking
Words and music : simple minds (c) emi music (publ) ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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