Quotes like Stradivarius Symphony of violins Stringing...

Stradivarius
Symphony of violins
Stringing me along

senryu by Ernestine Northover
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Seasonable Retour-Knell

SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS

Author notes

A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000

In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.

For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.

Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.

One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.

Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllll
For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER

Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.

Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.

AUTUMN WINTER

Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.

Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The New Symphony Sid

Symphony sid is grooving
Man this whole house is moving
Symphony sid is grooving
Symphony sid
Symphony sid is swinging
That radio is ringing
Symphony sid is swinging
Symphony sid
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid
Tune in and listen
Check out what youre missin
Youre finally close to eighty
On the dot
Some say hes the greatest
One thing is assured
When youre the latest
Youre gonna be hoppin and boppin round the future
All your friends will be knockin on your door
When sidney plays his swingin music, catch it you should take up the
Season you feel the temperature risin
Yeah man the radio is hot, youd never want to stop
Spinning like a little red top, all over town
Now, sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers dig in
Watch this, put em down
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid

song performed by Van Morrison
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God Needs Antonio

Your soul was lifted by the wings today
Hearing the master of the violin:
You praised him, praised the great Sabastian too
Who made that fine Chaconne; but did you think
Of old Antonio Stradivari?--him
Who a good century and a half ago
Put his true work in that brown instrument
And by the nice adjustment of its frame
Gave it responsive life, continuous
With the master's finger-tips and perfected
Like them by delicate rectitude of use.
That plain white-aproned man, who stood at work
Patient and accurate full fourscore years,
Cherished his sight and touch by temperance,
And since keen sense is love of perfectness
Made perfect violins, the needed paths
For inspiration and high mastery.

No simpler man than he; he never cried,
"why was I born to this monotonous task
Of making violins?" or flung them down
To suit with hurling act well-hurled curse
At labor on such perishable stuff.
Hence neighbors in Cremona held him dull,
Called him a slave, a mill-horse, a machine.

Naldo, a painter of eclectic school,
Knowing all tricks of style at thirty-one,
And weary of them, while Antonio
At sixty-nine wrought placidly his best,
Making the violin you heard today--
Naldo would tease him oft to tell his aims.
"Perhaps thou hast some pleasant vice to feed-
the love of louis d'ors in heaps of four,
Each violin a heap--I've naught to blame;
My vices waste such heaps. But then, why work
With painful nicety?"

Antonio then:
"I like the gold--well, yes--but not for meals.
And as my stomach, so my eye and hand,
And inward sense that works along with both,
Have hunger that can never feed on coin.
Who draws a line and satisfies his soul,
Making it crooked where it should be straight?
Antonio Stradivari has an eye
That winces at false work and loves the true."
Then Naldo: "'Tis a petty kind of fame
At best, that comes of making violins;
And saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go

[...] Read more

poem by George Eliot
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Hear A Symphony

Your givin me true love
And everyday I thank the lord
For a feeling thats so new
So inviting so exciting
Whenever your near
I hear a symphony
A tender melody
Pulling me closer, closer to your arms
Then suddenly your lips are touching mine
A feeling so divine, still I need a path because
Im lost in a world
Made for you and me
Oooh...
Baby, baby
I hear a symphony
Ooooh... baby
Whenever your near
I hear a symphony
Played sweet and tenderly
Everytime your lips meet mine, my baby
Baby, baby
I feel the joy begin
Dont let this feeling end
Let it go on and on and on now baby
Baby, baby
Those tears that filled my eyes
I cried not for myself
But for those who have never felt the joy of love
Baby, baby
Whenever your near
I hear a symphony
Each time you speak of me
I hear a tender note so sweet of love
Baby, baby
As you stand there holding me
Whispering how much you care
A thousand violins fill the air, now
Baby, baby
Dont let this moment end
Keep standing close to me
So close to me my baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby
I hear a symphony
A tender melody
I hear a symphony

song performed by Michael Jackson
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Adventure of a Poet

As I was walking down the street
A week ago,
Near Henderson's I chanced to meet
A man I know.

His name is Alexander Bell,
His home, Dundee;
I do not know him quite so well
As he knows me.

He gave my hand a hearty shake,
Discussed the weather,
And then proposed that we should take
A stroll together.

Down College Street we took our way,
And there we met
The beautiful Miss Mary Gray,
That arch coquette,
Who stole last spring my heart away
And has it yet.

That smile with which my bow she greets,
Would it were fonder!
Or else less fond-since she its sweets
On all must squander.

Thus, when I meet her in the streets,
I sadly ponder,
And after her, as she retreats,
My thoughts will wander.

And so I listened with an air
Of inattention,
While Bell described a folding-chair
Of his invention.

And when we reached the Swilcan Burn,
'It looks like rain,'
Said I, 'and we had better turn.'
'Twas all in vain,

For Bell was weather-wise, and knew
The signs aerial;
He bade me note the strip of blue
Above the Imperial,

Also another patch of sky,
South-west by south,
Which meant that we might journey dry

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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The Symphony Of Music

music has away of projecting
your every-emotion that you
have to give, the art of music
lives inside every-one that wants
to follow it.

the sorrow that it has
gives a symphony of words,
to express the inner-emotions
that music has to expose to
us as we listen to it.

the symphony of music
impacts us as we listen
and compassionately take
it to heart, as we start
becoming involved with
the symphony of music that
is being produced to us.

some-how the art of
music takes us by the
hand and moves us in so
many different ways that we
can't even explain to any-one
that is around us.

we take the symphony of
music as it moves through
us, as we listen with an open
heart and an open mind, and find
the boundaries that combines our
very emotions, thoughts, and feelings,
with the symphony of music that reveals
to us a whole new world of music to
us and being the people of the world.

but what people don't
understand and realise is
that the symphony of music,
goes deeper than what they
had imagined it to go, and
some-how not to show this
bittersweet side of me and
what the symphony of music
does to me and my feelings.

and to have it some-how
over-flowing inside my
veins is some-thing that

[...] Read more

poem by Erie Diane
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I Hear A Symphony

(brian holland/lamont dozier/edward holland, jr.)
Youve given me a true love
And every day I thank you love
For a feeling thats so new
So inviting, so exciting
Whenever youre near
I hear a symphony
A tender melody
Pulling me closer
Closer to your arms
Then suddenly, I hear a symphony
Ooh, your lips are touching mine
A feeling so divine
till I leave the past behind
Im lost in a world
Made for you and me
Whenever youre near
I hear a symphony
Play sweet and tenderly
Every time your lips meet mine now baby
Baby, baby
You bring much joy within
Dont let this feeling end
Let it go on and on and on
Now baby, baby
Those tears that seem my eyes
I cry not for myself
But for those who never felt the joy we felt
Whenever youre near
I hear a symphony
Each time you speak to me
I hear a tender rap so dy of love now
Baby, baby
As you stand holding me
Whispering how much you care
A thousand violins fill the air
Now baby, baby
Dont let this moment end
Keep standing close to me
Ooh, so close to me, baby, baby
Baby, baby
I hear a symphony
A tender melody

song performed by Diana Ross
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Music

PRELUDE

Daughter of Psyche, pledge of that last night
When, pierced with pain and bitter-sweet delight,
She knew her Love and saw her Lord depart,
Then breathed her wonder and her woe forlorn
Into a single cry, and thou wast born?
Thou flower of rapture and thou fruit of grief;
Invisible enchantress of the heart;
Mistress of charms that bring relief
To sorrow, and to joy impart
A heavenly tone that keeps it undefiled,--
Thou art the child
Of Amor, and by right divine
A throne of love is thine,
Thou flower-folded, golden-girdled, star-crowned Queen,
Whose bridal beauty mortal eyes have never seen!

Thou art the Angel of the pool that sleeps,
While peace and joy lie hidden in its deeps,
Waiting thy touch to make the waters roll
In healing murmurs round the weary soul.
Ah, when wilt thou draw near,
Thou messenger of mercy robed in song?
My lonely heart has listened for thee long;
And now I seem to hear
Across the crowded market-place of life,
Thy measured foot-fall, ringing light and clear
Above the unmeaning noises and the unruly strife;
In quiet cadence, sweet and slow,
Serenely pacing to and fro,
Thy far-off steps are magical and dear.
Ah, turn this way, come close and speak to me!
>From this dull bed of languor set my spirit free,
And bid me rise, and let me walk awhile with thee

III

Where wilt thou lead me first?
In what still region
Of thy domain,
Whose provinces are legion,
Wilt thou restore me to myself again,
And quench my heart's long thirst?

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Winter Symphony

Autumn colors have gone
Birds fled south with their song
Snowflakes cover the earth quietly
Night extends through the hours
Coolly lit by the stars
The pulse of life slows silently
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Somewhere children outside
Screamin down a daredevil slide
Rosy-cheeked bundles of cold-weather clothes
Hear the winter winds howl
Pierced by the hoot of an owl
Fingers of frost take a nip at my nose
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony

song performed by Beach Boys
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Violins

I am just another fool
And I have to keep telling myself that
I am just a hypocrite
And I have to keep calling you one
And I forgot to bite my tounge
And my assumption was the mother of all mistakes
So I assume the role, open my mouth, and clumsy words escape
So why you wanna be there when you could be here
you are slipping away
I awake with your replacement
A bottle in my grasp, in an unfamiliar place
Because you put me out
The butt of a sick joke
Into this ashtray life
As you come and go
And I forgot to servie you and we broke down
And you can't live with my mistakes
So I assume false grace open my arms
And grasp at something true
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you, wanna see you again
So why you wanna be there
When you could be here
You are slipping away
I bring the worst in you and you try and let me know
You bring out the worst in me
Anxiety, anxiety
I'm trying to let you go
You say I'm giving you the creeps
So I assume the role
Open my claws and grasp for your heart
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you
Wanna see you again
In to you like a mortal stake
So vindictive your love's slipping away
Violins (the but of your sick joke)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
Violins (I'm tryin' hard to let you know)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
(woo yeah)

song performed by Yellowcard
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Violins

song performed by Yellowcard
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Oboe Me Over

Strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.

Strings of violins,
Gently bowed by those who know...
The missing,
And touch that's kissed,
By one who seeks romance.

Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.

Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
Captured I am in your rhapsody.

Those strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.

Strings of violins,
Played over and over again.
Will never for me end...
My quest to be romanced.

Ooohhh,
Bowl me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.

And,
Captured I am...
In your rhapsody.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Odyssey: Book 21

Minerva now put it in Penelope's mind to make the suitors try
their skill with the bow and with the iron axes, in contest among
themselves, as a means of bringing about their destruction. She went
upstairs and got the store room key, which was made of bronze and
had a handle of ivory; she then went with her maidens into the store
room at the end of the house, where her husband's treasures of gold,
bronze, and wrought iron were kept, and where was also his bow, and
the quiver full of deadly arrows that had been given him by a friend
whom he had met in Lacedaemon- Iphitus the son of Eurytus. The two
fell in with one another in Messene at the house of Ortilochus,
where Ulysses was staying in order to recover a debt that was owing
from the whole people; for the Messenians had carried off three
hundred sheep from Ithaca, and had sailed away with them and with
their shepherds. In quest of these Ulysses took a long journey while
still quite young, for his father and the other chieftains sent him on
a mission to recover them. Iphitus had gone there also to try and
get back twelve brood mares that he had lost, and the mule foals
that were running with them. These mares were the death of him in
the end, for when he went to the house of Jove's son, mighty Hercules,
who performed such prodigies of valour, Hercules to his shame killed
him, though he was his guest, for he feared not heaven's vengeance,
nor yet respected his own table which he had set before Iphitus, but
killed him in spite of everything, and kept the mares himself. It
was when claiming these that Iphitus met Ulysses, and gave him the bow
which mighty Eurytus had been used to carry, and which on his death
had been left by him to his son. Ulysses gave him in return a sword
and a spear, and this was the beginning of a fast friendship, although
they never visited at one another's houses, for Jove's son Hercules
killed Iphitus ere they could do so. This bow, then, given him by
Iphitus, had not been taken with him by Ulysses when he sailed for
Troy; he had used it so long as he had been at home, but had left it
behind as having been a keepsake from a valued friend.
Penelope presently reached the oak threshold of the store room;
the carpenter had planed this duly, and had drawn a line on it so as
to get it quite straight; he had then set the door posts into it and
hung the doors. She loosed the strap from the handle of the door,
put in the key, and drove it straight home to shoot back the bolts
that held the doors; these flew open with a noise like a bull
bellowing in a meadow, and Penelope stepped upon the raised
platform, where the chests stood in which the fair linen and clothes
were laid by along with fragrant herbs: reaching thence, she took down
the bow with its bow case from the peg on which it hung. She sat
down with it on her knees, weeping bitterly as she took the bow out of
its case, and when her tears had relieved her, she went to the
cloister where the suitors were, carrying the bow and the quiver, with
the many deadly arrows that were inside it. Along with her came her
maidens, bearing a chest that contained much iron and bronze which her
husband had won as prizes. When she reached the suitors, she stood
by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister,
holding a veil before her face, and with a maid on either side of her.

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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If you have a Stradivarius and nobody to play it, it's just a Stradivarius. Or is it even that? It's nothing.

quote by Peabo Bryson
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Don't Play Me A Symphony

Don't Play me a Symphony
A simple song will do.

Diamond rings
Sparkling Bright
Gold and silver things
Candle lights
But I wish you bought
Real light
One day you understand
The meaning in my eyes.

Don't play me a symphony
A simple song will do
Don't buy me no jewellery
Won't make my dreams
Come true
Fancy cloths I never wore
And books I never read
All I want is your
Love is all I need.

Don't play me a symphony
I'd rather hear a song
Harm a note and melody
So I can harm along
Love is all I have to give
And love is all I need
All I want is your
love is all I need.

sympathy is not allowed
when you talk to me
you don't shout
if you gave more
more of your life
I could easily
One day be your wife.

Don't play me a symphony
A simple song will do
Don't buy me no jewellery
Won't make my dreams
Come true
Fancy cloths I never wore
And books I never read
All I want is your
Love is all I need.

Don't play me a symphony

[...] Read more

song performed by Baccara
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Music

Things may always stay the way they are
Still my head looks for a change from time to time
I dont really mean to look that far
Turn on the music
Strike up the music
Let the music change my mind
Now dont I dig the big time rock and roll
To sit in the darkness and be somebody else
A time which after all is under control
Crank out the music
Give me music
Let the music fill the air
My dear friend your heads been sinking like a stone
You must try thinking like a cloud sometime
Just leave a happy side out loud sometime
Theres a symphony inside you
Theres a thousand things for you to do
So come on
Let a hush fall on the movie crowd
Boy turns to girl and says I love you so
What I hear in here is violins
Give me music, mr. music
Let the music be there too
Ill never know what to do
Unless you let the music be there too
You see this man his heads been sinking like a stone
You must try thinking like a cloud sometime
Just leave a happy side out loud sometime
Theres a symphony inside you
Theres a thousand things for you to do
So come on
Leave a hush fall on the movie crowd
Boy turns to girl and says I love you so (well, you know)
What I hear in here is violins
Strike up the music, lay on the music
Let the music be there too
Let it be there too

song performed by James Taylor
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Superlative Story

I Syntaxical Sequence

II Strange Stanza Succession Starts

III Scenario Synopsis

IV Sensuality, sense, sensibility,

V Substitute Spousal Suggestions

VI Seesaw Simplicity: Seraglio Simularities Spurned

VII Solution

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I SYNTAXICAL SEQUENCE

Special scansion ‘S’ syllabic
specious solicisms scraps,
solo solving sounds strabismic,
syllogistic systole scraps.
Syllables spring, shuffle, scuttle,
skittle syntax, scintillate
syntonically sans snuffle, shuttle –
synonyms shake sides, spine straight.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding
senses sweeps, song swifter swims,
succulent succession seeding
substitutions, surface skims.
Scrupulous semantics subtle
switchback spiral, summarize,
seek solutions smart, scrolled, supple,
solve set spectrum's smallish size.

Synonymous synchronising
sympathetic symphony
scores - Socratic symbolizing –
swivelling sonority.
Scansion salvo salvo scansion
strong succeeds, succeeding sends
successors streamlined sampling surging –
sanction seems so slight, scourge spends.

Systematic symbol spreading
'sses something sacred, seeks, -

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Too Beautiful For Words

Verse 1
When I try to describe how I feel when you hold me
I get butterflies lullabies, its hard to explain
Like the sent of a rose or the sound of the rain
Its too precious and too wonderful to give it a name
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 2
Its on the tip of my tongue
But my lips are still sealed
Only violins and their innocence can show you how I feel
And I hear them again
At the end of the day
Im all teary-eyed when we kiss good-bye
Theres nothing I can say
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside of me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 3
Must be a million times
Ive tried to express this love of mine
When it goes this deep, when it tastes this sweet
Its not easy to define
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart

song performed by Christina Aguilera
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The Symphony

"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead!
The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head:
We're all for love," the violins said.
"Of what avail the rigorous tale
Of bill for coin and box for bale?
Grant thee, O Trade! thine uttermost hope:
Level red gold with blue sky-slope,
And base it deep as devils grope:
When all's done, what hast thou won
Of the only sweet that's under the sun?
Ay, canst thou buy a single sigh
Of true love's least, least ecstasy?"
Then, with a bridegroom's heart-beats trembling,
All the mightier strings assembling
Ranged them on the violins' side
As when the bridegroom leads the bride,
And, heart in voice, together cried:
"Yea, what avail the endless tale
Of gain by cunning and plus by sale?
Look up the land, look down the land
The poor, the poor, the poor, they stand
Wedged by the pressing of Trade's hand
Against an inward-opening door
That pressure tightens evermore:
They sigh a monstrous foul-air sigh
For the outside leagues of liberty,
Where Art, sweet lark, translates the sky
Into a heavenly melody.
`Each day, all day' (these poor folks say),
`In the same old year-long, drear-long way,
We weave in the mills and heave in the kilns,
We sieve mine-meshes under the hills,
And thieve much gold from the Devil's bank tills,
To relieve, O God, what manner of ills? --
The beasts, they hunger, and eat, and die;
And so do we, and the world's a sty;
Hush, fellow-swine: why nuzzle and cry?
"Swinehood hath no remedy"
Say many men, and hasten by,
Clamping the nose and blinking the eye.
But who said once, in the lordly tone,
"Man shall not live by bread alone
But all that cometh from the Throne?"
Hath God said so?
But Trade saith "No:"
And the kilns and the curt-tongued mills say "Go!
There's plenty that can, if you can't: we know.
Move out, if you think you're underpaid.
The poor are prolific; we're not afraid;
Trade is trade."'"

[...] Read more

poem by Sidney Lanier
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When Smokey Sings

Debonair lullabies in melodies revealed
In deep despair on lonely nights
He knows just how you feel
The slyest rhymes - the sharpest suits
In miracles made real
Like a bird in flight on a hot sweet night
You know youre right just to hold her tight
He soothes it right - makes it outtasite
And everythings good in the world tonight!
When smokey sings - I hear violins
When smokey sings - I forget everything
As shes packing her things
As shes spreading her wings
The front door might slam
But the back door it rings
And smokey sings...he sings
Elegance in eloquence - for sale or rent or hire
Should I say - yes I match his best
Then I would be a liar
Symphonies that soothe the rage
When lovers hearts catch fire
Like a bird in flight on a hot sweet night
You know youre right just to hold her tight
He soothes it right - makes it outtasite
And everythings good in the world tonight!
When smokey sings - I hear violins
When smokey sings - I forget everything
As shes packing her things
As shes spreading her wings
Smashing the hell
With the heaven she brings
Then smokey sings...he sings
Luther croons
Slys the original - originator
James screams
Marvin was the only innovator
But nothing can compare
Nothing can compare
When smokey sings
When smokey sings - I hear violins
When smokey sings - I forget everything
As shes packing her things
As shes spreading her wings
She threw back the ring
When smokey sings...
Smokey sings...
Smokey sings...

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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