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The Time and distance heal.

In your exit last year,
You were within reach,
Though out of my sight.
Yet my sorrow was at its peak.

In my exit this year,
You are out of my reach,
With little chance to meet.
But my sorrow is less in height.

Is it the time that healed it
Or the distance that dressed it
Or your inertness that quelled it?
Fuse is there. Switch is off.
13.06.2000, Palakkad

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Social Netowrking Of Robots

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Adrienne Vittadini

air bag blanco negro y
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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Healer

Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, oh Lord, Lord
Hmm, hmm, hmm
hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm
Blues a healer, all over the world
Blues a healer, healer, all over the world, all over the world
It healed me, it can heal you
The blues can heal you, early one morning
It can heal you
The blues can heal you
Yeah, yeah
It healed me, healed me
It healed me
I was down
I was down
It healed me
Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, yes it did, yes it did
Look now
My woman left me
The blues healed me
My woman left me, left me early one morning
Hmm, hmm
The blues healed me, it healed me, healed me
Yeah, yeah!
Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord
Hmm, have mercy
The blues , the blues is a healer
Blues, blues, is a healing healer
it healed, healed, healed
Heal!
Heal, heal, heal!
All over the world, all over the world
It's a healer
One night, I was laying down, feeling so bad, so low, so low
My woman had left me, blues came along and healed me
Heal!
Heal!
(Carlos, it healed me, Carlos)
Carlos!
It healed me!
The blues, it healed , it healed, healer
Hey!
Hey!
Healed me!
Healed me!
Healer!
Hey!
Blues a healer
The blues a healer, all over the world, all over the world

[...] Read more

song performed by Santana
Added by Lucian Velea
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Franks 2000 Tv

Risin above the city, blocking out the noonday sun
It dwarfs the mighty redwoods and it towers over everyone
I still remember when that delivery truck came down our block
What a lucky guy, I hear he got the last one in stock
And the neighbors are just green
They say, thats the biggest screen weve ever seen!
Its franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everbody come and see(franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Thats franks remote control, you can look, but dont touch it, please
cause franks the one in charge and he decides what everybody sees
The pictures crystal clear and everything is magnified
Robert deniros mole has got to be ten feet wide
Everybody in the town
Can hear those 90,000 watts of dolby sound
And Im mighty proud to say
Now I can watch the simpsons from thirty blocks away
On franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Im gonna get one of my own real soon
Its like having a drive-in movie in your own living room
Whoa, hey now... hey now na na na now
Hey now... hey now na na now
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Got a two year warranty on parts and labor
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Switch

Ladies and Gentleman
Thankyou very much for coming out this evening
Yeah Thank You
Thank You
Please take the Dance Floor
Uh I would like to welcome you to the Switch remix
Now all you got to do is let your body move
And just (woo)
Vibe the vibe a second, it's a club girl why you arrived naked
Hear that, how the veteran glide the record
But don't download, go out and buy the record
Something sexy about a,
Girl on the floor, all her friends around her
I mean real clean, ain't gotta touch or nothing
It ain't like I like a chick on chick or something
Just a sucker for a hot track,
Gimme a drink and a chick to tell 'Stop that'
Dance is a hop and a clap, flip it round
Now bring it on back, break it down
Now Switch!
I don't want nobody sitting on the wall (Switch)
If you didn't come to dance then why'd you come at all (Switch)
Heres your chance (heres your chance)
Take my hand (take my hand)
Do that dance
Girl lets Switch
I gotta question, I need to ask somebody
Why is it that when y'all see me at the party
Y'all be looking like 'Ooo he a movie star
He ain't supposed to be out on the floor with everybody'
But oh wait, whoa y'all forgetting
When I was, amateur spitting before the scripts were written
First one in, last one out the club
Bursting in, passing out in the club
Back at it, this cat is the wit and the charm
Taking you higher like a syringe hittin ya arm
Bringing the fire, making you Benz ring the alarm
Let me see you clap, spin baby come on
Switch!
I don't want nobody sitting on the wall (Switch)
If you didn't come to dance then why'd you come at all (Switch)
Heres your chance (heres your chance)
Take my hand (take my hand)
Do that dance
Girl lets Switch
time girl)
time girl)
time girl)
slide it up front)
Left right east west up down north south (Robin Thicke)

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
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Trash Bag

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Two Fuse

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
And a catalyst that captures,
Manufactures what it matches...
To attach and sack a catch.

Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
Factors in and snatches fast.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
And a catalyst that captures,
Manufactures what it matches...
To attach and sack a catch.

Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
Factors in and snatches fast.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.

Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Steep From A Peak A Fall Deep

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see...
A clarity that stops their sleeping.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see.
A clarity that stops their sleeping.

Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
And those of wicked ways.
Try not to look afraid,
But.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.

Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.

Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fitration Bags

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12

WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honor question’d for the promis’d fight;
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, 5
The more his fury boil’d within his breast:
He rous’d his vigor for the last debate,
And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 10
But, if the pointed jav’lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, 15
Thro’ his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach’d the king, and thus began:
“No more excuses or delays: I stand
In arms prepar’d to combat, hand to hand, 20
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war. 25
The Latians unconcern’d shall see the fight;
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain.”
To whom the king sedately thus replied: 30
“Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
The more becomes it us, with due respect,
To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: 35
My towns and treasures are at your command,
And stor’d with blooming beauties is my land;
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover’s ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince Italian born should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill’d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal’d.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib’d by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg’d by my wife, who would not be denied, 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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athem for the year 2000

We are the youth
We'll take your fascism away
We are the youth
Apologise for another day
We are the youth
And politicians are so sure
We are the youth
And we are knocking on death's door
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short
We'll make it up to you
in the year 2000 with...

Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short

We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000
Make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000 with you

Never knew we were living in a world
With a world that could be so sure
Never knew we were living in a world
With a mind that could be so small
Never knew we were living in a world
And the world is an open court
Maybe we don't want to live in a world
World who cares at all

We'll make it up to you
In the year 2000
Build it up for you
In the year 2000

[...] Read more

song performed by Silverchair from neon ballroom
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20
For partial favor, and permitted hate.
Let now your immature dissension cease;
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace.”
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge;
But lovely Venus thus replies at large: 25
“O pow’r immense, eternal energy,
(For to what else protection can we fly?)
Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare
In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care?
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, 30
In shining arms, triumphant on the plain?
Ev’n in their lines and trenches they contend,
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend:
The town is fill’d with slaughter, and o’erfloats,
With a red deluge, their increasing moats. 35
Æneas, ignorant, and far from thence,
Has left a camp expos’d, without defense.
This endless outrage shall they still sustain?
Shall Troy renew’d be forc’d and fir’d again?
A second siege my banish’d issue fears, 40
And a new Diomede in arms appears.
One more audacious mortal will be found;
And I, thy daughter, wait another wound.
Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave,
The Latian lands my progeny receive, 45
Bear they the pains of violated law,
And thy protection from their aid withdraw.
But, if the gods their sure success foretell;
If those of heav’n consent with those of hell,
To promise Italy; who dare debate 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Switch!

You gotta stop listen up
Checking out my beats
Know that theyre unique
Got you jumping out your seats ah
Never bring the same flow upon a track
Better watch your back when I bring the switch attack now
People when they nod
Nod they dont to the funk
Thing that I bring
Make your head wanna ring
Here we come you know we bring it raw
Get up on the floor cuz you gotta get some more
Friday night
The partys just around the corner
Shell be there so I just cant be late
Gotta get my groove thing on
Cuz Ill be dancing all night long
Send me to a place where I can have some fun
Refrao
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me (switch!)
Da freak (4x) - switch!
Rock it like this (2x) - switch!
Five guys clap your hands
Just clap your hands to this
Just clap your hands to the beat now (switch!)
Uh, uh, uh, we get down, uh, uh, uh, uh (switch!)
Nine oclock
And finally my groove is swinging
Beats are fine now
I guess its time to rock (guess its time to rock)
Now the partys on the way
I found out Ive got to stay
People start to gather round and round and round and round
Refrao
Switch! (3x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Switch! (2x)
Da freak (2x) - switch!
Rock it like this - switch!
Five guys clap your hands - switch!
Uh, uh, uh
Switch! (4x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah - switch!
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah

song performed by Five
Added by Lucian Velea
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Busy Booked Hooker

Dressed nice and neatly.
She looked so hot.
With a weave that fizzled.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.

Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.

Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was not that sweet.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was a noonday hooker.

Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
Just an overbooked hooker.
On a call,
To meet.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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What's There To Defecate On The T.V. Tonight?

Inoculate existence to the pleasures of the screen
Preying heed at the altar in the service the settee
Enrichment to the popcorn in sterilized excitement
Taste the artificial flavor that butters your confinement

Drift in the sea of static electro phosphate discharge
Catching the cheap thrills for dancing with the stars
Watch your altered cerebellum supernovas serotonin
For that macabre fetish when Criminal Minds is on

You know you'll find excitement in another rerun
A life of two dimensions in Sony stereo speakers
Pull a sitcom or a drama imitating your connections
Until all that's left of us is hologram seductions

What's there to see on HD TV?
Just the bread and circus of enlightened society
Click Switch, Click Switch, and Click switch
Static eyes disolve pupils dilate and twitch

Nothing new on news, accept recycled tragedies
Filtered dialogues digesting spacious commentary
Programmed homicides -Suicides: celebrating Ratings
See news castors plaster consideration without virtue

Click Switch, Click Switch Click Switch

Legal queries and drive bys for regurgitated pastimes
Watch the minister of finance announce innovative tax cuts
A sequel in six months, will show recessions still at lunch
With a barging bin protest conducted after brunch

Click Switch, Click Switch, Click Switch
More celebrity activists preach a call to arms
Until another agenda fad changes their cause
Trapped Alabama Miners, Students fighting in Quebec
There's going to be another issue so just sit back a relax

Global warming's escalating, pedophilias the rage
Just enjoy the stable barrage of calamities buffets
At 8: 00 it's Family Guy, at 9: 00 it's Yankee Idol
Who needs real solutions when preaching to the converted?

Just
Click Switch, Click Switch, Click Switch
Until you pass the final twitch

poem by Kevin Patrick
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Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…

Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…

Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…

Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…

Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…

Monsoon at peak,
Roads flooded,
Where is MCD?

Monsoon at peak,
Umbrellas
New fashion accessory…

Monsoon at peak,
Sun gets much needed
Rest…

Monsoon at peak,
Bathes
Foliage and trees.

Monsoon at peak
Schools closed
Children squeal,
Wish, it rains
Everyday of the week…

Monsoon at peak,
Leave your shoes at the door-
Mother screams…

Monsoon at peak,
Driver stops
To wipe the wind shield…

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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11

SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais’d her head
Above the waves, and left her wat’ry bed;
The pious chief, whom double cares attend
For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
Yet first to Heav’n perform’d a victor’s vows: 5
He bar’d an ancient oak of all her boughs;
Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac’d,
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac’d.
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10
Was hung on high, and glitter’d from afar,
A trophy sacred to the God of War.
Above his arms, fix’d on the leafless wood,
Appear’d his plumy crest, besmear’d with blood:
His brazen buckler on the left was seen; 15
Truncheons of shiver’d lances hung between;
And on the right was placed his corslet, bor’d;
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 20
“Our toils, my friends, are crown’d with sure success;
The greater part perform’d, achieve the less.
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, 25
As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar’d in arms, pursue your happy chance;
That none unwarn’d may plead his ignorance, 30
And I, at Heav’n’s appointed hour, may find
Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
Meantime the rites and fun’ral pomps prepare,
Due to your dead companions of the war:
The last respect the living can bestow, 35
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer’d earth be theirs, for which they fought,
And which for us with their own blood they bought;
But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city of Evander send, 40
Who, not inglorious, in his age’s bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom.”
Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
Acoetes watch’d the corpse; whose youth deserv’d 45
The father’s trust; and now the son he serv’d
With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th’ attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
A troop of Trojans mix’d with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel’d hair. 50

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poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Canto the Third

I.

Is thy face like thy mother’s, my fair child!
Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart?
When last I saw thy young blue eyes, they smiled,
And then we parted, - not as now we part,
But with a hope. -
Awaking with a start,
The waters heave around me; and on high
The winds lift up their voices: I depart,
Whither I know not; but the hour’s gone by,
When Albion’s lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.

II.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more!
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider. Welcome to their roar!
Swift be their guidance, wheresoe’er it lead!
Though the strained mast should quiver as a reed,
And the rent canvas fluttering strew the gale,
Still must I on; for I am as a weed,
Flung from the rock, on Ocean’s foam, to sail
Where’er the surge may sweep, the tempest’s breath prevail.

III.

In my youth’s summer I did sing of One,
The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind;
Again I seize the theme, then but begun,
And bear it with me, as the rushing wind
Bears the cloud onwards: in that tale I find
The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears,
Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,
O’er which all heavily the journeying years
Plod the last sands of life - where not a flower appears.

IV.

Since my young days of passion - joy, or pain,
Perchance my heart and harp have lost a string,
And both may jar: it may be, that in vain
I would essay as I have sung to sing.
Yet, though a dreary strain, to this I cling,
So that it wean me from the weary dream
Of selfish grief or gladness - so it fling
Forgetfulness around me - it shall seem
To me, though to none else, a not ungrateful theme.

V.

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