Sometimes the syllables matter:
It meant to say, “Stow cars away
Someplace that is not here.”
But just one unfortunate break
Is all it takes to make it say:
“Middling Monarchs are Banned.”
Syllables Matter [Lyric Poem]
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Tag Archives: Lyric Poem
“Fable” by Ralph Waldo Emerson [w/ Audio]
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
And the former called the latter ‘Little Prig.’
Bun replied,
‘You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.’
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“Could that sweet Darkness where they dwell” (1493) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
Could that sweet Darkness where they dwell
Be once disclosed to us
The clamor for their loveliness
Would burst the Loneliness —
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“Monody” by Herman Melville [w/ Audio]
To have known him, to have loved him
After loneness long;
And then to be estranged in life,
And neither in the wrong;
And now for death to set his seal—
Ease me, a little ease, my song!
By wintry hills his hermit-mound
The sheeted snow-drifts drape,
And houseless there the snow-bird flits
Beneath the fir-trees’ crape:
Glazed now with ice the cloistral vine
That hid the shyest grape.
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“Drinking Alone in the Rainy Season” by Tao Yuanming [陶渊明] (a.k.a. Táo Qián, or 陶潜]
Whatever lives must meet its end --
That is the way it has always been.
If Taoist immortals were once alive,
Where are they today?
The old man who gave me wine
Claimed it was the wine of the immortals.
One small cup and a thousand worries vanish;
Two, and you'll even forget about heaven.
But is heaven really so far away?
It is best to trust in the Tao.
A crane in the clouds has magic wings
To cross the earth in a moment.
It's been forty years of struggle
Since I first became reclusive.
Now that my body is nearly dead,
My heart is pure. What more is there to say?
NOTE: This is the translation of Sam Hamill found in The Poetry of Zen (2004); Shambhala Publications: Boston, MA, p.24.
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“Daybreak” by John Donne [w/ Audio]
STAY, O sweet, and do not rise!
The light that shines comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not: it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay! or else my joys will die
And perish in their infancy.
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“To a Butterfly” by William Wordsworth [w/ Audio]
Stay near me—do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find in Thee,
Historian of my Infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay Creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My Father's Family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when in our childish plays
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey:—with leaps and springs
I follow'd on from brake to bush;
But She, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.
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“To the River” by Edgar Allan Poe [w/ Audio]
Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty—the unhidden heart—
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto’s daughter;
But when within thy wave she looks—
Which glistens then, and trembles—
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in my heart, as in thy stream,
Her image deeply lies—
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul-searching eyes.
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“Weichuan Farmers” [渭川田家] by Wang Wei [王维] [w/ Audio]
Low, warm light lands on the village.
Cattle and sheep trapsing farmward.
Farmer mulls a missing shepherd,
Leaning on his staff, still on guard.
Pheasants cluck, wheat heads are heavy,
Silkworms dormant, mulberry leaves few.
Farmers stand, hoes on their shoulders,
Telling old tales, as if they were new.
How I envy the idle time --
To chat about mankind's decline.
This is poem #16 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.] The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
斜光照墟落， 穷巷牛羊归。
野老念牧童， 倚杖候荆扉。
雉雊麦苗秀， 蚕眠桑叶稀。
田夫荷锄立， 相见语依依。
即此羡闲逸， 怅然吟式微。
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“Adieu, Adieu! My Native Shore” by Lord Byron [w/ Audio]
Adieu, adieu! my native shore
Fades o'ver the waters blue;
The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew.
Yon sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native Land-Good Night!
A few short hours, and he will rise
To give the morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother earth.
Deserted is my own good hall,
Its hearth is desolate;
Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;
My dog howls at the gate.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 