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Oceania

(To the Islands of Hawaii)

Strand of pearls broken
Strewn ‘cross vast waters
Minute volcanic tokens
Gaia's Sons ‘n Daughters

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Hawaii

Do you wanna go
Straight to hawaii
(hawaii) hawaii (hawaii)
Straight to hawaii (hawaii, hawaii)
Oh do (honolulu, waikiki) you wanna come along with me
(do you wanna come along with me)
I heard about all the pretty girls
With their grass skirts down to their knees
All my life I wanted to see
The island called hawaii
Go to hawaii
(hawaii) hawaii (hawaii)
Straight to hawaii (hawaii, hawaii)
Oh do (honolulu, waikiki) you wanna come along with me
(do you wanna come along with me)
Now I dont know what town youre from
But dont tell me that they got bigger waves
Cause everyone that goes
Comes back with nothing but raves
Thats in hawaii
(hawaii) hawaii (hawaii)
Thats in hawaii (hawaii, hawaii)
Oh do (honolulu, waikiki) you wanna come along with me
(do you wanna come along with me)
And pretty soon this winter
Theyll hold the surfing championship of the year
Surfer guys and girls
Will be coming from far and near
Go to hawaii
(hawaii) hawaii (hawaii)
Go to hawaii (hawaii, hawaii)
Oh do (honolulu, waikiki) you wanna come along with me
(do you wanna come along with me)
And you now (honolulu, waikiki)
You wanna live hanah lee
(do you wanna come along with me)
Ooo ooo ooo (honolulu, waikiki)
Ooo ooo ooo (do you wanna come along with me)
Ooo ooo ooo (honolulu, waikiki)
Ooo ooo ooo (do you wanna come along with me)
Ooo ooooo (honolulu, waikiki)

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pearl

Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.

2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.

3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.

4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Iliad: Book 2

Now the other gods and the armed warriors on the plain slept
soundly, but Jove was wakeful, for he was thinking how to do honour to
Achilles, and destroyed much people at the ships of the Achaeans. In
the end he deemed it would be best to send a lying dream to King
Agamemnon; so he called one to him and said to it, "Lying Dream, go to
the ships of the Achaeans, into the tent of Agamemnon, and say to
him word to word as I now bid you. Tell him to get the Achaeans
instantly under arms, for he shall take Troy. There are no longer
divided counsels among the gods; Juno has brought them to her own
mind, and woe betides the Trojans."
The dream went when it had heard its message, and soon reached the
ships of the Achaeans. It sought Agamemnon son of Atreus and found him
in his tent, wrapped in a profound slumber. It hovered over his head
in the likeness of Nestor, son of Neleus, whom Agamemnon honoured
above all his councillors, and said:-
"You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one who has the welfare of his
host and so much other care upon his shoulders should dock his
sleep. Hear me at once, for I come as a messenger from Jove, who,
though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and pities you. He
bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you shall take
Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the gods; Juno has
brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides the Trojans at
the hands of Jove. Remember this, and when you wake see that it does
not escape you."
The dream then left him, and he thought of things that were,
surely not to be accomplished. He thought that on that same day he was
to take the city of Priam, but he little knew what was in the mind
of Jove, who had many another hard-fought fight in store alike for
Danaans and Trojans. Then presently he woke, with the divine message
still ringing in his ears; so he sat upright, and put on his soft
shirt so fair and new, and over this his heavy cloak. He bound his
sandals on to his comely feet, and slung his silver-studded sword
about his shoulders; then he took the imperishable staff of his
father, and sallied forth to the ships of the Achaeans.
The goddess Dawn now wended her way to vast Olympus that she might
herald day to Jove and to the other immortals, and Agamemnon sent
the criers round to call the people in assembly; so they called them
and the people gathered thereon. But first he summoned a meeting of
the elders at the ship of Nestor king of Pylos, and when they were
assembled he laid a cunning counsel before them.
"My friends," said he, "I have had a dream from heaven in the dead
of night, and its face and figure resembled none but Nestor's. It
hovered over my head and said, 'You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one
who has the welfare of his host and so much other care upon his
shoulders should dock his sleep. Hear me at once, for I am a messenger
from Jove, who, though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and
pities you. He bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you
shall take Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the
gods; Juno has brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides
the Trojans at the hands of Jove. Remember this.' The dream then

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Kona Coast

Its been my secret passion to try it
In captain cook fashion, I cant deny it
I want to spend my winters on the kona coast in hawaii
For years I saved my pennies and planned it
The great pacific ocean well span it
I wanna go surfin where I dig it the most, in hawaii
(go to hawaii)
Hawaiian islands beckon (hawaii)
And Ill be back here someday, I reckon
And pretty island girls greet you with a flower lei
Youll throw it back into the sea
Hopin you be comin back to hawaii
Suntanned beauties are everywhere
Lovely island ladies with long dark hair
Youre sure to find a honey waitin for you there in hawaii
Kani and wahini and wahowalis, too
Get a friendly aloha from this mecca to you
Theyre the friendliest people anywhere in hawaii
(go to hawaii)
Welcome to the island mecca. (hawaii)
Ill learn to talk like a local, I betcha
And at lahaina look out for shooting stars
Well watch them fall into the sea
And it will be just you and me in hawaii
Winter in the sun and surf would sure be nice
In a south sea garden of paradise
I wanna spend my summer on the kona coast in hawaii
(honolulu, waikiki, do you wanna come along with me? )
(waimia up to hanalai, love to take you to the islands today)

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Pearls Worth

Silver pearls fall down her skin
She knows she must do it for she can't stay strong
For all she has to do is count to ten
She knows he's always wrong

Silver pearls fall down her face
In the dead of night, it is so dark
She stands in the room with fear, with hate
In her soul the pain he gave has left its mark

Silver pearls fall on the barrel
As she holds the gun in her hands
For long before this night their love grew stale
And oh how she thinks it is easy to hold life and death in her hands

Silver pearls fall over bruises, the pain
She bites her lip as she counts one... two
In her heart he's left the stain
She looks at his still body three... four

Silver pearls fall as she moves her hands
She walks to his side
In front of his face she stands
As her mind starts the chant 'he lied'

Silver pearls fall five... six
She holds the barrel to his head
Seven... Eight... she moves her feet just to stall
She knows it won't matter for she is already dead

Silver pearls shade her eyes
Nine... she counts on
her mind filled with his lies
Ten... her finger tightens as he opens his eyes

Silver pearls fall as she pulls the trigger, pulls the string
His eyes wonder, as he fades
His mouth moves, and she remembers the thing
Now she only see dark shades

Silver pearls fall as he leaves her, as she turns
Her daughter stands at the door at only six
Her hand turns
Her eyes search through the young girls eyes

Silver pearls fall as she mouths her last breath
The trigger is pulled as she sinks to her knees
The girls screams fill her mind, for she feels the hand of death
And only now she sees

[...] Read more

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Melekalikimaka

Its been my secret passion to try it
To spend my christmas surfin, I cant deny it
I wanna spend my christmas on the kona coast in hawaii
For years I saved my pennies and planned it
The great pacific ocean, well span it
I wanna spend christmas where I dig it the most, in hawaii
Go to hawaii
Melekalikimaka is merry christmas in hawaii talk-a
And at lahaina well count the shooting stars
And it will be just you and me in hawaii
The suntanned beauties are everywhere
If youre comin to the islands then you might stare
And find a girl waiting for you there in hawaii
Kani and wahini and the haoles, too
Wish a melekalikimaka to you
Theyre the friendliest people anywhere in hawaii
Go to hawaii
Melekalikimaka is how they say it in island talk-a
The island flower fragrance in the air
Well write a card and underneath the mango trees
Well say, wish you were here with us in hawaii
Winter in the sun and surfd sure be nice
In a south sea garden paradise
I wanna spend christmas where I dig it the most, in hawaii
Honolulu, waikiki
Do you wanna come along with me?
Waimia up to hanalai
Id love to take you to the islands today

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gaia

Notes:
Jt on sony.com: there is a theory suggested by the planetologist john lovelock, that life (on earth) is one inter connected, self regulating organism (watch out). he named it the gaia theory aft
E ancient greek earth goddess (evidently).
Your basic tree huggers anthem.
The sky was light and the land all dark
The sun rose up over central park
I was walking home from work
Gaia
The petal sky and the rosy dawn
The world turning on the burning sun
Sacred wet green one we live on
Gaia
Run run run run said the automobile and we ran
Run for your life take to your heels
Foolish school of fish on wheels
Gaia
Turn away from your animal kind
Try to leave your body just to live in your mind
Leave your cold cruel mother earth behind
Gaia
As if you were your own creation
As if you were the chosen nation
And the world around you just a rude and
Dangerous invasion
Gaia
Someones got to stop us now
Save us from us gaia
No ones gonna stop us now
We thought we ought to walk awhile
So we left that town in a single file
Up and up and up mile after mile after mile
We reached the tree line and I dropped my pack
Sat down on my haunches and I looked back down
Over the mountain
Helpless and speechless and breathless
Gaia
Pray for the forest pray to the tree
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea
Pray for yourself and for gods sake
Say one for me
Poor wretched unbeliever
Someones got to stop us now
Save us from us gaia
No ones gonna stop us now

song performed by James Taylor
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tiriel

1

And Aged Tiriel. stood before the Gates of his beautiful palace
With Myratana. once the Queen of all the western plains
But now his eyes were darkned. & his wife fading in death
They stood before their once delightful palace. & thus the Voice
Of aged Tiriel. arose. that his sons might hear in their gates
Accursed race of Tiriel. behold your father
Come forth & look on her that bore you. come you accursed sons.
In my weak arms. I here have borne your dying mother
Come forth sons of the Curse come forth. see the death of Myratana
His sons ran from their gates. & saw their aged parents stand
And thus the eldest son of Tiriel raisd his mighty voice
Old man unworthy to be calld. the father of Tiriels race
For evry one of those thy wrinkles. each of those grey hairs
Are cruel as death. & as obdurate as the devouring pit
Why should thy sons care for thy curses thou accursed man
Were we not slaves till we rebeld. Who cares for Tiriels curse
His blessing was a cruel curse. His curse may be a blessing
He ceast the aged man raisd up his right hand to the heavens
His left supported Myratana shrinking in pangs of death
The orbs of his large eyes he opend. & thus his voice went forth
Serpents not sons. wreathing around the bones of Tiriel
Ye worms of death feasting upon your aged parents flesh
Listen & hear your mothers groans. No more accursed Sons
She bears. she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or Yuva
These are the groans of death ye serpents These are the groans of death
Nourishd with milk ye serpents. nourishd with mothers tears & cares
Look at my eyes blind as the orbless scull among the stones
Look at my bald head. Hark listen ye serpents listen
What Myratana. What my wife. O Soul O Spirit O fire
What Myratana. art thou dead. Look here ye serpents look
The serpents sprung from her own bowels have draind her dry as this[.]
Curse on your ruthless heads. for I will bury her even here
So saying he began to dig a grave with his aged hands
But Heuxos calld a son of Zazel. to dig their mother a grave
Old cruelty desist & let us dig a grave for thee
Thou hast refusd our charity thou hast refusd our food
Thou hast refusd our clothes our beds our houses for thy dwelling
Chusing to wander like a Son of Zazel in the rocks
Why dost thou curse. is not the curse now come upon your head
Was it not you enslavd the sons of Zazel. & they have cursd
And now you feel it. Dig a grave & let us bury our mother
There take the body. cursed sons. & may the heavens rain wrath
As thick as northern fogs. around your gates. to choke you up
That you may lie as now your mother lies. like dogs. cast out
The stink. of your dead carcases. annoying man & beast
Till your white bones are bleachd with age for a memorial.
No your remembrance shall perish. for when your carcases
Lie stinking on the earth. the buriers shall arise from the east

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake (1789)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sons & Daughters

(ian hunter)
Theres a place in the city they call the archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
And I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldnt know I was with them no more
When they said, wheres me dad? shed say, hes a star!
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and Ive got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage breaks up youre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sons And Daughters

There's a place in the city they call the Archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
and I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldn't know I was with them no more
When they said, "Where's me dad?" She'd say, "He's a star!"
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and I've got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage breaks up you're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sons Of The Pioneers

(myles goodwyn)
Published by northern goody two tunes, ltd./capac - ascap
Reachin for a space in time, layin our fate on the line
Starting out a life anew, after weve come so far
Wont you look and see now, here we are
You were the ones, there is no doubt
You ate it up and spit it out
You were the ones, you made it clear, you could take it
We are the sons of the pioneers (we are the sons of pioneers)
The day has come, our fate is clear
Were the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Were not afraid to try (were not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear
Whats the point of going on, if you feel that it couldnt be done
Cause I just wanna understand, freedoms the soul of a man
Wont you look and see now, and show me how
We have the chance, there is no doubt
Well pick it up, and see it out
We are the ones, you made it clear, we can take it
We are the sons of the pioneers (we are the sons of pioneers)
The day has come, the way is clear
For the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear......................fear
When you think of how far weve come, and to know that weve only begun
Leaving us a legacy, makes sense to me
That now our time has come, for we have to move on
You were the ones, there is no doubt
You ate it up and spit it out
You were the ones, you made it clear, you could take it
And now its time, our fate is surely here now
There is no doubt about it, its time we thought about it
We are the ones, the way is clear, for the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afriad of fear
Is there any doubt, none at all, they heard the call of the
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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A poem, on the rising glory of America

LEANDER.
No more of Memphis and her mighty kings,
Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies.
Taught golden commerce to unfurl her falls,
And bid fair science smile: No more of Greece
Where learning next her early visit paid,
And spread her glories to illume the world,
No more of Athens, where she flourished,
And saw her sons of mighty genius rise
Smooth flowing Plato, Socrates and him
Who with resistless eloquence reviv'd
The Spir't of Liberty, and shook the thrones
Of Macedon and Persia's haughty king.
No more of Rome enlighten'd by her beams,
Fresh kindling there the fire of eloquence,
And poesy divine; imperial Rome!
Whose wide dominion reach'd o'er half the globe;
Whose eagle flew o'er Ganges to the East,
And in the West far to the British isles.
No more of Britain, and her kings renown'd,
Edward's and Henry's thunderbolts of war;
Her chiefs victorious o'er the Gallic foe;
Illustrious senators, immortal bards,
And wise philosophers, of these no more.
A Theme more new, tho' not less noble claims
Our ev'ry thought on this auspicious day
The rising glory of this western world,
Where now the dawning light of science spreads
Her orient ray, and wakes the muse's song;
Where freedom holds her sacred standard high,
And commerce rolls her golden tides profuse
Of elegance and ev'ry joy of life.

ACASTO.
Since then Leander you attempt a strain
So new, so noble and so full of fame;
And since a friendly concourse centers here
America's own sons, begin O muse!
Now thro' the veil of ancient days review
The period fam'd when first Columbus touch'd
The shore so long unknown, thro' various toils,
Famine and death, the hero made his way,
Thro' oceans bestowing with eternal storms.
But why, thus hap'ly found, should we resume
The tale of Cortez, furious chief, ordain'd
With Indian blood to dye the sands, and choak
Fam'd Amazonia's stream with dead! Or why,
Once more revive the story old in fame,

[...] Read more

poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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Solomon

As thro' the Psalms from theme to theme I chang'd,
Methinks like Eve in Paradice I rang'd;
And ev'ry grace of song I seem'd to see,
As the gay pride of ev'ry season, she.
She gently treading all the walks around,
Admir'd the springing beauties of the ground,
The lilly glist'ring with the morning dew,
The rose in red, the violet in blew,
The pink in pale, the bells in purple rows,
And tulips colour'd in a thousand shows:
Then here and there perhaps she pull'd a flow'r
To strew with moss, and paint her leafy bow'r;
And here and there, like her I went along,
Chose a bright strain, and bid it deck my song.

But now the sacred Singer leaves mine eye,
Crown'd as he was, I think he mounts on high;
Ere this Devotion bore his heav'nly psalms,
And now himself bears up his harp and palms.
Go, saint triumphant, leave the changing sight,
So fitted out, you suit the realms of light;
But let thy glorious robe at parting go,
Those realms have robes of more effulgent show;
It flies, it falls, the flutt'ring silk I see,
Thy son has caught it and he sings like thee,
With such election of a theme divine,
And such sweet grace, as conquers all but thine.

Hence, ev'ry writer o'er the fabled streams,
Where frolick fancies sport with idle dreams,
Or round the sight enchanted clouds dispose,
Whence wanton cupids shoot with gilded bows;
A nobler writer, strains more brightly wrought,
Themes more exulted, fill my wond'ring thought:
The parted skies are track'd with flames above,
As love descends to meet ascending love;
The seasons flourish where the spouses meet,
And earth in gardens spreads beneath their feet.
This fresh-bloom prospect in the bosom throngs,
When Solomon begins his song of songs,
Bids the rap'd soul to Lebanon repair,
And lays the scenes of all his action there,
Where as he wrote, and from the bow'r survey'd
The scenting groves, or answ'ring knots he made,
His sacred art the sights of nature brings,
Beyond their use, to figure heav'nly things.

Great son of God! whose gospel pleas'd to throw
Round thy rich glory, veils of earthly show,
Who made the vineyard oft thy church design,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
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We Salute You Gallant Sons And Daughters Of The Soil

Gallant sons and daughters of the soil, hail heros, we salute you
for the tremendous and outrageous job you did in restoration of the lost glory and hope, FREEDOM...

We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for putting
your lives at risk and the sacrifise
you made in restoring our legacy,
from our fore fathers.

We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soils, today we
are enjoying the fruits of your sacrifise and dedication of your
lives just to restore the legacy
heritage and freedom which we
enjoy today....

Freedom was born out of bloodshed of the gallant sons and daughters of the soil, freedom was
born out of the armed struggle, we
salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil..

We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil, thank you
for restoring the glory, heritage
and legacy which had been robbed from us! !

Hail gallant sons and daughters
of the soil, they exchanged freedom with the blood which
the spilt in the process of restoring the lost prestige and glory, heritage..

We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for breaking
down the iron york from our necks granting us solace, you did
all this out of love and loyalty.

We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for the enduarance, dedication you made
in bringing freedom and the lost
heritage, through the wire and many challenges you met, but you
risked your lives to bring freedom..

Today we enjoy the fruits of the
armed struggle which brought freedom, revolution completed
its course we are enjoying the fruits of the armed struggle
we salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil may your
soul rest in peace

dedication to the gallant sons and
daughters of the soil of zimbabwe who lost their lives in the process of fighting for freedom..

poem by Donald Kuutsi
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The Iliad: Book 24

The assembly now broke up and the people went their ways each to his
own ship. There they made ready their supper, and then bethought
them of the blessed boon of sleep; but Achilles still wept for
thinking of his dear comrade, and sleep, before whom all things bow,
could take no hold upon him. This way and that did he turn as he
yearned after the might and manfulness of Patroclus; he thought of all
they had done together, and all they had gone through both on the
field of battle and on the waves of the weary sea. As he dwelt on
these things he wept bitterly and lay now on his side, now on his
back, and now face downwards, till at last he rose and went out as one
distraught to wander upon the seashore. Then, when he saw dawn
breaking over beach and sea, he yoked his horses to his chariot, and
bound the body of Hector behind it that he might drag it about. Thrice
did he drag it round the tomb of the son of Menoetius, and then went
back into his tent, leaving the body on the ground full length and
with its face downwards. But Apollo would not suffer it to be
disfigured, for he pitied the man, dead though he now was; therefore
he shielded him with his golden aegis continually, that he might
take no hurt while Achilles was dragging him.
Thus shamefully did Achilles in his fury dishonour Hector; but the
blessed gods looked down in pity from heaven, and urged Mercury,
slayer of Argus, to steal the body. All were of this mind save only
Juno, Neptune, and Jove's grey-eyed daughter, who persisted in the
hate which they had ever borne towards Ilius with Priam and his
people; for they forgave not the wrong done them by Alexandrus in
disdaining the goddesses who came to him when he was in his
sheepyards, and preferring her who had offered him a wanton to his
ruin.
When, therefore, the morning of the twelfth day had now come,
Phoebus Apollo spoke among the immortals saying, "You gods ought to be
ashamed of yourselves; you are cruel and hard-hearted. Did not
Hector burn you thigh-bones of heifers and of unblemished goats? And
now dare you not rescue even his dead body, for his wife to look upon,
with his mother and child, his father Priam, and his people, who would
forthwith commit him to the flames, and give him his due funeral
rites? So, then, you would all be on the side of mad Achilles, who
knows neither right nor ruth? He is like some savage lion that in
the pride of his great strength and daring springs upon men's flocks
and gorges on them. Even so has Achilles flung aside all pity, and all
that conscience which at once so greatly banes yet greatly boons him
that will heed it. man may lose one far dearer than Achilles has lost-
a son, it may be, or a brother born from his own mother's womb; yet
when he has mourned him and wept over him he will let him bide, for it
takes much sorrow to kill a man; whereas Achilles, now that he has
slain noble Hector, drags him behind his chariot round the tomb of his
comrade. It were better of him, and for him, that he should not do so,
for brave though he be we gods may take it ill that he should vent his
fury upon dead clay."
Juno spoke up in a rage. "This were well," she cried, "O lord of the
silver bow, if you would give like honour to Hector and to Achilles;

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Minute By Minute

Michael mcdonald/lester abrams
Hey, dont worry, Ive been lied to
Ive been here many times before
Girl, dont you worry, I know where I stand
I dont need this love, I dont need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and youd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin
Wilt away on lies from you
Cant stop the habit of livin on the run
I take it all for granted like youre the only one
Livin on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think Im your fool
Well, you may just be right
cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and Ill be gone
Youll reach out and I wont be there
Just my luck youll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on...

song performed by Doobie Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minute By Minute (Dobbie Brothers)

(Michael McDonaldLester Abrams)
Hey, don't worry, I've been lied to
I've been here many times before
Girl, don't you worry, I know where I stand
I don't need this love, I don't need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and you'd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin'
Wilt away on lies from you
Can't stop the habit of livin' on the run
I take it all for granted like you're the only one
Livin' on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think I'm your fool
Well, you may just be right
'Cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and I'll be gone
You'll reach out and I won't be there
Just my luck you'll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on...

song performed by Michael Mcdonald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paradise, Hawaiian Style

(words & music by bill giant - b. baum - f. kaye)
Hawaii, u.s.a., hawaii..u.s.a..
Were flyin, comin your way
Aloha, hawaii u.s.a.
Gee its great, to be in that fiftieth state
The land of enchanted dreams
What an isle, where its heaven tropical style
Where love weaves a spell, it seems
Hawaii, u.s.a., hawaii..u.s.a..
Were flyin, comin your way
Aloha, hawaii u.s.a.
Gee what fun, just to swim and surf in the sun
While the trade winds caress the sea
What a sight, those exotic scenes of delight
Are waiting for you and me
Hawaii, u.s.a....hawaii...u.s.a...hawaii..u.s.a....

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fingal - Book III

ARGUMENT.

Cuthullin, pleased with the story of Carril, insists with that bard for more of his songs. He relates the actions of Fingal in Lochlin, and death of Agandecca, the beautiful sister of Swaran. He had scarce finished, when Calmar, the son of Matha, who had advised the first battle, came wounded from the field, and told them of Swaran's design to surprise the remains of the Irish army. He himself proposes to withstand singly the whole force of the enemy, in a narrow pass, till the Irish should make good their retreat. Cuthullin, touched with the gallant proposal of Calmar, resolves to accompany him and orders Carril to carry off the few that remained of the Irish. Morning comes, Calmar dies of his wounds; and the ships of the Caledonians appearing, Swaran gives over the pursuit of the Irish, and returns to oppose Fingal's landing. Cuthullin, ashamed, after his defeat, to appear before Fingal re tires to the cave of Tura. Fingal engages the enemy, puts them to flight: but the coming on of night makes the victory not decisive. The king, who had observed the gallant behavior of his grandson Oscar, gives him advice concerning his conduct in peace and war. He recommends to him to place the example of his fathers before his eyes, as the best model for his conduct; which introduces the episode concerning Fainasóllis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken under his protection in his youth. Fillan and Oscar are despatched to observe the motions of the enemy by night: Gaul, the son of Morni, desires the command of the army in the next battle, which Fingal promises to give him. Some general reflections of the poet close the third day.

"PLEASANT are the words of the song! "said Cuthullin, "lovely the tales of other times! They are like the calm dew of the morning on the hill of roes! when the sun is faint on its side, and the lake is settled and blue on the vale. O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma: which was sung in my halls of joy, when Fingal, king of shields, was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers.

"Fingal! thou dweller of battle," said Carril, "early were thy deeds in arms. Lochlin was consumed in thy wrath, when thy youth strove in the beauty of maids. They smiled at the fair-blooming face of the hero; but death was in his hands. He was strong as the waters of Lora. His followers were the roar of a thousand streams. They took the king of Lochlin in war; they restored him to his ship. His big heart swelled with pride; the death of the youth was dark in his soul. For none ever but Fingal, had overcome the strength of the mighty Starno. He sat in the hall of his shells in Lochlin's woody land. He called the gray-haired Snivan, that often sung round the circle of Loda; when the stone of power heard his voice , and battle turned in the field of the valiant!

"'Go, gray-haired Snivan,' Starno said: 'go to Ardven's sea-surrounded rocks. Tell to the king of Selma; he the fairest among his thousands; tell him I give to him my daughter, the loveliest maid that ever heaved a breast of snow. Her arms are white as the foam of my waves. Her soul is generous and mild. Let him come with his bravest heroes to the daughter of the secret hall!' Snivan came to Selma's hall: fair-haired Fingal attended his steps. His kindled soul flew to the maid, as he bounded on the waves of the north. 'Welcome,' said the dark-brown Starno, 'welcome, king of rocky Morven! welcome his heroes of might, sons of the distant isle! Three days within thy halls shall we feast; three days pursue my boars; that your fame may reach the maid who dwells in the secret hall.'

"Starno designed their death. He gave the feast of shells. Fingal, who doubted the foe, kept on his arms of steel. The sons of death were afraid: they fled from the eyes of the king. The voice of sprightly mirth arose. The trembling harps of joy were strung. Bards sung the battles of heroes; they sung the heaving breast of love. Ullin, Fingal's bard, was there: the sweet voice of resounding Cona. He praised the daughter of Lochlin; and Morven's high-descended chief. The daughter of Lochlin overheard. She left the hall of her secret sigh! She came in all her beauty, like the moon from the cloud of the east. Loveliness was round her as light. Her steps were the music of songs. She saw the youth and loved him. He was the stolen sigh of her soul. Her blue eyes rolled on him in secret: she blessed the chief of resounding Morven.

"The third day, with all its beams, shone bright on the wood of boars. Forth moved the dark-browed Starno; and Fingal, king of shields. Half the day they spent in the chase; the spear of Selma was red in blood. It was then the daughter of Starno, with blue eyes rolling in tears; it was then she came with her voice of love, and spoke to the king of Morven. 'Fingal, high-descended chief, trust not Starno's heart of pride. Within that wood he has placed his chiefs. Beware of the wood of death. But remember, son of the isle, remember Agandecca; save me from the wrath of my father, king of the windy Morven!'

"The youth with unconcern went on; his heroes by his side. The sons of death fell by his hand; and Germal echoed around! Before the halls of Starno the sons of the chase convened. The king's dark brows were like clouds; his eyes like meteors of night. 'Bring hither,' he said, 'Agandecca to her lovely king of Morven! His hand is stained with the blood of my people; her words have not been in vain!' She came with the red eye of tears. She came with loosely flowing locks. Her white breast heaved with broken sighs, like the foam of the streamy Lubar. Starno pierced her side with steel. She fell, like a wreath of snow, which slides from the rocks of Ronan, when the woods are still, and echo deepens in the vale! Then Fingal eyed his valiant chiefs: his valiant chiefs took arms! The gloom of battle roared: Lochlin fled or died. Pale in his bounding ship he closed the maid of the softest soul. Her tomb ascends on Ardven; the sea roars round her narrow dwelling."

"Blessed be her soul," said Cuthullin; "blessed be the mouth of the song! Strong was the youth of Fingal; strong is his arm of age. Lochlin shall fall again before the king of echoing Morven. Show thy face from a cloud, O moon! light his white sails on the wave: and if any strong spirit of heaven sits on that low-hung cloud; turn his dark ships from the rock, thou rider of the storm!"

Such were the words of Cuthullin at the sound of the mountain stream; when Calmar ascended the hill, the wounded son of Matha. From the field he came in his blood. He leaned on his bending spear. Feeble is the arm of battle! but strong the soul of the hero! "Welcome! O son of Matha," said Connal, "welcome art thou to thy friends! Why bursts that broken sigh from the breast of him who never feared before?" "And never, Connal, will he fear, chief of the pointed steel! My soul brightens in danger; in the noise of arms I am of the race of battle. My fathers never feared.

"Cormar was the first of my race. He sported through the storms of waves. His black skiff bounded on ocean; he travelled on the wings of the wind. A spirit once embroiled the night. Seas swell and rocks resound. Winds drive along the clouds. The lightning flies on wings of fire. He feared, and came to land, then blushed that he feared at all. He rushed again among the waves, to find the son of the wind. Three youths guide the bounding bark: he stood with sword unsheathed. When the low-hung vapor passed, he took it by the curling head. He searched its dark womb with his steel. The son of the wind forsook the air. The moon and the stars returned! Such was the boldness of my race. Calmar is like his fathers. Danger flies from the lifted sword. They best succeed who dare!

"But now, ye sons of green Erin, retire from Lena's bloody heath. Collect the sad remnant of our friends, and join the sword of Fingal. I heard the sound of Lochlin's advancing arms: Calmar will remain and fight. My voice shall be such, my friends, as if thousands were behind me. But, son of Semo, remember me. Remember Calmar's lifeless corse. When Fingal shall have wasted the field, place me by some stone of remembrance, that future times may hear my fame; that the mother of Calmar may rejoice in my renown."

"No: son of Matha," said Cuthullin, "I will never leave thee here. My joy is in an unequal fight: my soul increases in danger. Connal, and Carril of other times, carry off the sad sons of Erin. When the battle is over, search for us in this narrow way. For near this oak we shall fall, in the streams of the battle of thousands! O Fithal's son, with flying speed rush over the heath of Lena. Tell to Fingal that Erin is fallen. Bid the king of Morven come. O let him come like the sun in a storm, to lighten, to restore the isle!"

Morning is gray on Cromla. The sons of the sea ascend. Calmar stood forth to meet them in the pride of his kindling soul. But pale was the face of the chief. He leaned on his father's spear. That spear which he brought from Lara, when the soul of his mother was sad; the soul of the lonely Alcletha, waning in the sorrow of years. But slowly now the hero falls, like a tree on the plain. Dark Cuthullin stands alone like a rock in a sandy vale. The sea comes with its waves, and roars on its hardened sides. Its head is covered with foam; the hills are echoing round.

Now from the gray mist of the ocean the white-sailed ships of Fingal appear. High is the grove of their masts, as they nod, by turns, on the rolling wave. Swaran saw them from the hill. He returned from the sons of Erin. As ebbs the resounding sea, through the hundred isles of Inistore; so loud, so vast, so immense, returned the sons of Lochlin against the king. But bending, weeping, sad, and slow, and dragging his long spear behind, Cuthullin sunk in Cromla's wood, and mourned his fallen friends. He feared the face of Fingal, who was wont to greet him from the fields of renown!

"How many lie there of my heroes! the chiefs of Erin's race! they that were cheerful in the hall, when the sound of the shells arose! No more shall I find their steps in the heath! No more shall I hear their voice in the chase. Pale, silent, low on bloody beds, are they who were my friends! O spirits of the lately dead, meet Cuthullin on his heath! Speak to him on the winds, when the rustling tree of Tura's cave resounds. There, far remote, I shall lie unknown. No bard shall hear of me. No gray stone shall rise to my renown. Mourn me with the dead, O Bragéla! departed is my fame." Such were the words of Cuthullin, when he sunk in the woods of Cromla!

Fingal, tall in his ship, stretched his bright lance before him. Terrible was the gleam of his steel: It was like the green meteor of death, setting in the heath of Malmor, when the traveller is alone, and the broad moon is darkened in heaven.

"The battle is past," said the king. "I behold the blood of my friends. Sad is the heath of Lena! mournful the oaks of Cromla! The hunters have fallen in their strength: the son of Semo is no more! Ryno and Fillan, my sons, sound the horn of Fingal! Ascend that hill on the shore; call the children of the foe. Call them from the grave of Lamderg, the chief of other times. Be your voice like that of your father, when he enters the battles of his strength! I wait for the mighty stranger. I wait on Lena's shore for Swaran. Let him come with all his race; strong in battle are the friends of the dead!"

Fair Ryno as lightning gleamed along: dark Fillan rushed like the shade of autumn. On Lena's heath their voice is heard. The sons of ocean heard the horn of Fingal. As the roaring eddy of ocean returning from the kingdom of snows: so strong, so dark, so sudden, came down the sons of Lochlin. The king in their front appears, in the dismal pride of his arms! Wrath burns on his dark-brown face; his eyes roll in the fire of his valor. Fingal beheld the son of Starno: he remembered Agandecca. For Swaran with tears of youth had mourned his white-bosomed sister. He sent Ullin of songs to bid him to the feast of shells: for pleasant on Fingal's soul returned the memory of the first of his loves!

Ullin came with aged steps, and spoke to Starno's son. "O thou that dwellest afar, surrounded, like a rock, with thy waves! come to the feast of the king, and pass the day in rest. To-morrow let us fight, O Swaran, and break the echoing shields." — "To-day," said Starno's wrathful son, "we break the echoing shields: to-morrow my feast shall be spread; but Fingal shall lie on earth." — "To-morrow let his feast be spread," said Fingal, with a smile. "To-day, O my sons! we shall break the echoing shields. Ossian, stand thou near my arm. Gaul, lift thy terrible sword. Fergus, bend thy crooked yew. Throw, Fillan, thy lance through heaven. Lift your shields, like the darkened moon. Be your spears the meteors of death. Follow me in the path of my fame. Equal my deeds in battle."

As a hundred winds on Morven; as the streams of a hundred hills; as clouds fly successive over heaven; as the dark ocean assails the shore of the desert: so roaring, so vast, so terrible, the armies mixed on Lena's echoing heath. The groans of the people spread over the hills: it was like the thunder of night, when the cloud bursts on Cona; and a thousand ghosts shriek at once on the hollow wind. Fingal rushed on in his strength, terrible as the spirit of Trenmor; when in a whirlwind he comes to Morven, to see the children of his pride. The oaks resound on their mountains, and the rocks fall down before him. Dimly seen as lightens the night, he strides largely from hill to hill. Bloody was the hand of my father, when he whirled the gleam of his sword. He remembers the battles of his youth. The field is wasted in its course!

Ryno went on like a pillar of fire. Dark is the brow of Gaul. Fergus rushed forward with feet of wind; Fillin like the mist of the hill. Ossian, like a rock, came down. I exulted in the strength of the king. Many were the deaths of my arm! dismal the gleam of my sword! My locks were not then so gray; nor trembled my hands with age. My eyes were not closed in darkness; my feet failed not in the race!

Who can relate the deaths of the people? who the deeds of mighty heroes? when Fingal, burning in his wrath, consumed the sons of Lochlin? Groans swelled on groans from hill to hill, till night had covered all. Pale, staring like a herd of deer, the sons of Lochlin convene on Lena. We sat and heard the sprightly harp, at Lubar's gentle stream. Fingal himself was next to the foe. He listened to the tales of his bards. His godlike race were in the song, the chiefs of other times. Attentive, leaning on his shield, the king of Morven sat. The wind whistled through his locks; his thoughts are of the days of other years. Near him, on his bending spear, my young, my valiant Oscar stood. He admired the king of Morven: his deeds were swelling in his soul.

"Son of my son," began the king, "O Oscar, pride of youth: I saw the shining of the sword. I gloried in my race. Pursue the fame of our fathers; be thou what they have been, when Trenmor lived, the first of men, and Trathal, the father of heroes! They fought the battle in their youth. They are the song of bards. O Oscar! bend the strong in arm; but spare the feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides against the foes of thy people; but like the gale, that moves the grass. to those who ask thine aid. So Trenmor lived; such Trathal was; and such has Fingal been. My arm was the support of the injured; the weak rested behind the lightning of my steel.

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poem by James Macpherson
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