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Rough Draft

Like a Saturday night I'll be gone
Like a Saturday night I'll be gone
before you knew that I was there
So you wrote it down
I'm supposed to care
Even though it's never there
Sorry if I'm not prepared
Is it hard to see the things you substitute
For me and all my thoughts of you
It's eating me alive to leave you
Maybe it's childish and maybe it's wrong
But so is your blank stare in lieu of this song
Maybe it's childish and maybe it's wrong
Don't wanna be, don't wanna be wrong
You're leaving me, you're leaving me in lieu of this song
Don't wanna be, don't wanna be wrong
You're leaving me, you're leaving me in lieu of this song
I'm breathing in your skin tonight
Quiet is my loudest cry
Wouldn't wanna wake the eyes that make me melt inside

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song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rough Draft

Like a Saturday night I'll be gone
Like a Saturday night I'll be gone
before you knew that I was there
So you wrote it down
I'm supposed to care
Even though it's never there
Sorry if I'm not prepared
Is it hard to see the things you substitute
For me and all my thoughts of you
It's eating me alive to leave you
Maybe it's childish and maybe it's wrong
But so is your blank stare in lieu of this song
Maybe it's childish and maybe it's wrong
Don't wanna be, don't wanna be wrong
You're leaving me, you're leaving me in lieu of this song
Don't wanna be, don't wanna be wrong
You're leaving me, you're leaving me in lieu of this song
I'm breathing in your skin tonight
Quiet is my loudest cry
Wouldn't wanna wake the eyes that make me melt inside

[...] Read more

song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Apparition

Je vis un ange blanc qui passait sur ma tête ;
Son vol éblouissant apaisait la tempête,
Et faisait taire au loin la mer pleine de bruit.
- Qu'est-ce que tu viens faire, ange, dans cette nuit ?
Lui dis-je. - Il répondit : - je viens prendre ton âme. -
Et j'eus peur, car je vis que c'était une femme ;
Et je lui dis, tremblant et lui tendant les bras :
- Que me restera-t-il ? car tu t'envoleras. -
Il ne répondit pas ; le ciel que l'ombre assiège
S'éteignait... - Si tu prends mon âme, m'écriai-je,
Où l'emporteras-tu ? montre-moi dans quel lieu.
Il se taisait toujours. - Ô passant du ciel bleu,
Es-tu la mort ? lui dis-je, ou bien es-tu la vie ? -
Et la nuit augmentait sur mon âme ravie,
Et l'ange devint noir, et dit : - Je suis l'amour.
Mais son front sombre était plus charmant que le jour,
Et je voyais, dans l'ombre où brillaient ses prunelles,
Les astres à travers les plumes de ses ailes.
Apparition
Je vis un ange blanc qui passait sur ma tête ;

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poem by Victor Hugo
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Le Mendiant

C'était quand le printemps a reverdi les prés.
La fille de Lycus, vierge aux cheveux dorés,
Sous les monts Achéens, non loin de Cérynée,

Errait à l'ombre, aux bords du faible et pur Crathis,
Car les eaux du Crathis, sous des berceaux de frêne,
Entouraient de Lycus le fertile domaine.
Soudain, à l'autre bord,
Du fond d'un bois épais, un noir fantôme sort,
Tout pâle, demi-nu, la barbe hérissée:
Il remuait à peine une lèvre glacée,
Des hommes et des dieux implorait le secours,
Et dans la forêt sombre errait depuis deux jours;
Il se traîne, il n'attend qu'une mort douloureuse;
Il succombe. L'enfant, interdite et peureuse,
A ce hideux aspect sorti du fond des bois,
Veut fuir; mais elle entend sa lamentable voix.
Il tend les bras, il tombe à genoux; il lui crie
Qu'au nom de tous les dieux il la conjure, il prie,
Et qu'il n'est point à craindre, et qu'une ardente faim

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poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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An Approach To Development Of Humanism!

Nationalism, racism and monopolism develop domination;
Competition, control and protectionism keep world insecure;
Domination of economic and military power is animalism;
Cooperation and coordination develop peace and humanism!

To put an end to warring nature and domination sports help;
Olympics is a mark of civilisation bringing together all as one,
Develops friendship testing prowess in games in lieu of wars!
Healthy competition in business in lieu of monopoly is better!

Intellectualism and wisdom develop humanism on higher level
Through art, literature, music, poetry and paintings in society.
Globalisation of economy, politics, etc. promotes internationalism;
Culture, Nature preservation develop mysticism and spiritualism!

Approaches to development of humanism are many to follow
If the will of people is familiarised with the sense of one world!

poem by Ramesh T A
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Living in the Heart's Memory

A gentle touch upon the forearm
with a hand, gloved or warm with life,

outside the church door;
turning away from the open grave;
by that concrete place
where they lay the floral tributes
by the cemetery chapel;
or later, as you hand the food around;

a gentle touch upon the forearm
or a hand sought for to squeeze and hold; or
man to man, they favour a shoulder briefly gripped,
as if that’s the pressure point
where empathetic camaraderie should be applied;

the single sentence of consolation,
sometimes so well rehearsed, it comes out awkwardly –
‘she’ll be much missed…’
‘you have so many memories…’

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Yellow Clover

Must I, who walk alone,
Come on it still,
This Puck of plants
The wise would do away with,
The sunshine slants
To play with,
Our wee, gold-dusty flower, the yellow clover,
Which once in Parting for a time
That then seemed long,
Ere time for you was over,
We sealed our own?
Do you remember yet,
O Soul beyond the stars,
Beyond the uttermost dim bars
Of space,
Dear Soul, who found earth sweet,
Remember by love's grace,
In dreamy hushes of the heavenly song,
How suddenly we halted in our climb,
Lingering, reluctant, up that farthest hill,

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poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Reste, Reste Avec Nous

Reste, reste avec nous, ô père des bons vins!
Dieu propice, ô Bacchus! toi dont les flots divins
Versent le doux oubli de ces maux qu'on adore;
Toi, devant qui I'amour s'enfuit et s'évapore,
Comme de ce cristal aux mobiles éclairs
Tes esprits odorants s'exhalent dans les airs.

Eh bien! mes pas ont-ils refusé de vous suivre?
'Nous venons, disiez-vous, te conseiller de vivre.
Au lieu d'aller gémir, mendier des dédains,
Suis-nous, si tu le peux. La joie à nos festins
T'appelle. Viens, les fleurs ont couronné la table:
Viens, viens y consoler ton âme inconsolable.'

Vous voyez, mes amis, si de ce noble soin
Mon coeur tranquille et libre avait aucun besoin.
Camille dans mon coeur ne trouve plus des armes,
Et je l'entends nommer sans trouble, sans alarmes;
Ma pensée est loin d'elle, et je n'en parle plus;
Je crois la voir muette et le regard confus,

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poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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La Solitude de St. Amant /La Solitude A Alcidon

1
O! Solitude, my sweetest choice
Places devoted to the night,
Remote from tumult, and from noise,
How you my restless thoughts delight!
O Heavens! what content is mine,
To see those trees which have appear'd
From the nativity of Time,
And which hall ages have rever'd,
To look to-day as fresh and green,
 As when their beauties first were seen!

2
A cheerful wind does court them so,
And with such amorous breath enfold,
That we by nothing else can know,
But by their hieght that they are old.
Hither the demi-gods did fly
To seek the sanctuary, when
Displeased Jove once pierc'd the sky,

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poem by Katherine Philips
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