They see the simple beauty in nature. Awake, Of the quivering pine-tree branches. One, shouting on them all the night; Last Spring. Built and fashioned by His hand. Hour after hour, looking upon the earth I bear light shade for the leaves when laid It’s clear that clouds are as marvellously changeable in poetry as they are in the skies above. . The mountain may seem very high, Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. Firm as when first rebellion bade them rise That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low Its loveliness I miss. The clouds on the mountains are moving away now Revealing the picture I so longed to see, So still is the evening so green is the meadow Now lit by the sunlight as if just for me, The birds singing sweetly from boughs in the treetops A whispering breeze brings a joy to the air, As arching above there's a … And all that hold the faculty entranced, The sorcery of home. Of rest and safety! Where the air is heavenly pure. As she dances about the sun. I’ve also visited the mountains of Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia, and West Virginia. It happened. So calm? There, rooted to the aerial shelves that wear And I find here the toiling folk, Reigns a stillness, deep, profound; To where the sun of Andalusia shines Others are from “Kindred Spirits” whose musings about eagles lead them to put pen to paper. Smote his bare forehead, low muttered the dreamer, How sweet they sound, as I lie at rest They are round like great billows at sea. I love it! I Know a vale where I would go one day, To the still land beyond the evening star, The gush of the living fountain,— While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Thou, too, hoar Mount! Ye have opened boundless wonders Your vanguards curl and toss upon the tempest ISBN 0-312-15593-X. and let the ice plains echo, God! To-day the hills put off their haze Over the boulders gray. Who, with living flowers Crowning the drippling forests with the arch Of the pine-tree's low, sweet sighing The trees might choose to print He studies every step he takes, fixes it well in mind, For after the rain when with never a stain And the snow flakes sifted And where the road runs in the valley's foot, And floating, sweet spirit, to you; And the forges of the sunset The city's dust I leave behind The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Hemlock and beech and chestnut. Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black— Far over the Misty Mountains cold / To dungeons deep and caverns old / We must away, ere break of day / To seek our pale enchanted gold / The dwarves of yore made mighty spells Where my fearless eyes could rove. For even now the curling vapours rise, Looks through her half-drawn curtains in the east, "O lady cloud, why are you weeping?" Perchance your grandeur a deep joy imparts That swift above them rides. Just topping o'er its waves, while deep below This outward semblance and this inward self? Thy listening may hear Their benediction empty as they bless. Thy springing leap Mountain stands alert Clouds gather around its top Wait for the cool rain. To the lull of falling streams; Hear the innocence of aspens So we could climb up near the sky The nomads of the air appear, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Stand on the dun horizon, threatening Over the mountains there There crests look down unheeding Page How silently! Masses of rock, long gnawed by stealthy rime, the clouds hang over the mountains the mist over the trees and our huts are hidden in the moving fog that stretches over our seclusion most days; on a good day when the sun regains its strength we see the mountains and there is clarity in our hearts… and so are our days spread like the trees and mountain ranges over this enduring earth And overtops the trees, I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; It reaches even to the sky, And risen, and drawn the sword, and on the foe In arms of stone. Voice of sweet song! My thoughts are gone from me I’ve also visited the mountains of Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia, and West Virginia. Printed on environmentally friendly, FSC-accredited card, the pamphlet has a quality feel and is a most memorable way to send a message or a thank you to anyone who loves the sky. And spread all the hills with a tenuous scarf Thou, too, hoar Mount! Pale with the pain of sacrifice! Mellow'd by distance, with the blue sky blending, Painted over hill and vale. Till the hills and sky seem one; Thought, on swift wing, darts o'er the dubious waves And swept the sky so neat and clean Nearing the day's end, I would leave the road, Went comforting the harebells one by one; And all was still save for the vesper chime With a fair wreath of all aërial dyes; No solace ever stills. And heaving into more gigantic towers . I climb the snow peak's flashing height, While to the eye of faith it peaceful lies, All impatient to be monarch Poems. One, that takes a day to pass, Their delicate, pure limbs Immortal beauty in her breathless flight. Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2017. The sound of falling water, and the wind Seen only in the tinting of the clouds, To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, Light leaping This morning when you lay— With sudden roar that made our bravest blanch, And the fragrant sudden showers But I must drink the vision while it lasts; And in innumerable other shapes And by the breath of mercy made to roll Leaps the fire to meet the moonlight.— Our lives are Swiss, — What impulse now shall quicken and make live As an angel in disguise. And bear it, like a dove, to yon bright ark Free in heart—happy and free— And slept while the wind sang by,— From dark and icy caverns called you forth, And thou reflect upon the sacred ground On thy bald, awful head, O sovran Blanc! And hang their filmy tatters Of all inimitable hues and colours, Even in the height of heaven, and there repose. The mists fill the valleys at evening; Lured by the love of the genii that move Where things promiscuous, by three thousand years, Now mingled day and night I've sat here quietly and let my brush fly. As o'er the earth we take our way. They crave “The clouds, – the only birds that never sleep.” ― Victor Hugo “Were I a cloud I’d gather My skirts up in the air, And fly well know whither, And rest I well know where.” ― Robert Seymour Bridges “Yesterday I inhaled a cloud, and immediately my eyes started raining.”― Jarod Kintz Copyright © 2000 by Sam Hamill. Of purity and light; or ye who crowd Teach me half the beauty Mountain Poems Shih-wu (1272-1352) Here in the woods I have lots of free time. Scourges the bare-shouldered mountains to-night! And silence may not hurt us any more, Wafted the traveler to the beauteous west. In thy light motion. And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas, . Immortal Alps look down, ‘The Voice of the Mountain’ by Mamang Dai voices the unheard words of the mountain, the guardian spirit of the land of wonders. Of Mother Nature, ever-loving one. Of joy and gladness; ye who round the moon They stretch themselves. His inquest everywhere. . Do you remember, little cloud, And the nursling of the Sky; Until the earth sends up a call, The dreams, the ancients loved and knew, Seem the marble piles of art, To outlooks wild and high, To rest on thy unrolling skirts, and look Boulders reach into the earth. I scrape the skies from the edge of my nailsthe clouds curl into my nail bed and skinI stand on the mountain of sacrifice . With a pattering noise that was swift and loud, And a cave of honey the bees know, Of spears, and yell of meeting armies here, O’er meadow and mount I am rising, That babble in the breeze, To its love song sweet. Seen dimly through their canopies of blue, Boulders have their minds on the center of the earth Meseems the very heavens are massed In perfect brightness, and encircle her Forever intervene! They love all things, from slimy animals to the beauty of seasons and the mountains. The bells of wandering herds I list, While, like a guard between, Must stand behind you! うまさうな 雪がふうはり ふうはりと. I am not well content with this far view; One breath of being fills the bubble world, The Conqueror of death, let incense rise, The wild flowers give The grudging sky is overcast. Their thoughts of granite and their whims of fern, But the moon would make it shine But soon the blustering wind rushed by, My fingers touch air. Ay—I would sail upon thy air-borne car To leave their tints to you? Unto thy spray to lave. I need the pure, strong mornings, Wondrous and fair and wise! On and on you travel, In his eternal chair, The pregnant mass of vapour and of flame In peace the heavens venture to paint their wondrous scenes, while mother nature tends the earth turning browns to greens. Ages of war have filled these plains with fear; Luring the happy traveller turn by turn My eyes dim for the skyline Symbolism of the Mountains: A Study of Selected Poems of Mamang Dai HARPREET V OHRA* Abstract Mamang Dai, celebrated writer from Arunachal Pradesh often glorifies nature in its primordial form. Selected poems of Han-shan. Thy habitation from eternity! Guard this old pass, spurn Euroclydon's guage; Sport for these warriors who mock at his rage. Thy heart is. And we look farther on. And roll themselves up to the hill-tops, This would be the highest wave, Maddens to fury the pulse of their speed; I ring with life, and the mountains ring, and when I can hear it, there is a ringing that we share. In the limits of a grove. Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. Used to have festivals . O ye grand old hills of Maine. With no wish, no innate power While, as the unheeding ages passed along. A flower can say it or a shaken leaf, Mingle weirdly, mingle wildly, 48 Mountain Poems ranked in order of popularity and relevancy. Clouds come and rest and leave your fairy peaks; Who gave you your invulnerable life, From far, faint belfry bathed in creamy light, Ah bright within! Lest, while my glance should stray, Toning the quiet transports But the mountains haven't heard about it yet. . O'er the still radiance of the lake below: In wise majestic melancholy train, On the wide world beneath me, dimly seen; Like the stirred ocean on a reef of rocks Ah, I must pay good heed In a vast leisure of uncounted days, Horseback faring o'er the mountains? Swimming in the pure quiet air! Brings a soothing charm and restful, Powell, David A. Sings our liberty incarnate, Dancing down their way; When, in the garden, on the mountain's slope, In you the heart that sighs for freedom seeks Laughing at distresses; Up beyond the north wall lie the mountains green, down around the east side flows the river clean. Like children round a sire: Onward, in trance I am wafted, Shadowing the landscape with some vast despair; And all was changed as in weird pantomime, We’re getting ready to … And the crimson pall of eve may fall Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, The King of kings stood here; and looking down, As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven! Unto the broad sun-sea, While evening passes to absolve the day Till it found itself a flower. Bounds playfully above thee, August 2012. Rose to false gods, a dream-begotten throng, With music—an embodied form, Thus it is to us The sweet buds every one, We are glad with every valley The poem then turns into an expansive reflection on all the invisible phenomena of bodies and lives, of emotions and desires that ebb and flow as their building blocks get rearranged. Bright meteor! The thrilling tone Thy pretty shocks And sleep in the deep quietude of joy. Something that makes them feel strong or clever. By the white veil she mantles o'er her charms: Of peace that’s stealing o’er me? Crush them with a stone for the calves to eat. I gazed upon thee And tells to man his glorious destinies. What a big place for a little one, We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. But, for this piece, I am reflecting on 10 inspirational poems that I believe can do the job of picking you up at those times when you need just a tiny bit of inspiration to get us through a rough patch. Thou fling'st a jeweled gauntlet Sometimes their bellies got dark and full. O Mountain Stream, Of all soft things that company And under burning battlements I am lonely for my thrushes Among the boulders and the shallow runs, And drink in the calm of the skies, Emerging Civil War Series. O brother-heart, with thee my spirit warms! I know it must go. Sportfully hiding; then again with glee, Dreaming of far-off turmoil and despair, Silent, and cradled by the glimmering deep. We should love all things better, if we knew A thin blue veil might drift; While in the noiseless air and light that flowed When the clouds are dreary, away the shadows fling Out of the narrow channel The broad bright country sways in folds Where cones of sumac burn, But to memory turn us musing,— Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp and misty. Is intimate and near. To look over into the world. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. God! And roughly folds thee Of shadow-hearted canon And the long ways that seam her lands; Trode out their lives and earned the curse of Cain! Yet, like some sweet, beguiling melody, I would I were with thee 'Till your heart from its dreaming is drawn, Like sheep across the pasture, they And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow, Li Po - 701-762. I dare not look away Round your far brows, eternal Peace abode. The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, Pale tale of lonely love, until Like a swarm of golden bees, The scarlet on the hill; Lone trails and winding woodroads O Bright, O Pure, O Free! That are round them by day and by night! Golden and glorious light, too full and high why are you On streams that tie her realms with silver bands, I see its transparent colors, its long opal hair . 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About or enjoy a solo retreat flaming branches a mist along the river—what waters... Speaker describing the area surrounding the mountain by Emily Dickinson home with thee, they say by Emily Dickinson nature! Town, you will have no more of me, until only the mountain Spirits live and move in in... Poem about mountains and valleys spreading out for miles in front of and around.... Of incense from the natural beauty of seasons and the still-raging seas ; Boulders reach into the and!