Kaikki On Hyvin

Oli piv maailman parhain, oli vaatimuksia jo varhain
Joita toimitettiin ties mist, oli hirveet stmist
Kello kaulassaan aika juoksi ksittmtt mink vuoksi
Tiesi vain tuloksia tytyi nostaa, piiskata kuolluttakin hevosta
Niin me ravattiin kehdosta hautaan, hakattiin aivan kylmkin rautaa
Kaikki tiesi jo tullessaan sisn, nyt vaan kiiresti kaikkea lis
Laitettiin vaikka heikolle jlle, elementtitalot toisten plle
Radio toisti tunnissa kerran: "Peilists net maailman herran"
Jotain siit kai kuuli tuo tuuli kun kovin niin ryhtyikin puhaltamaan
Alkoi mahtavaa myrsky yllemme valmistamaan
Voi meit! Voi teit! Eksyneit!
Maailmaan tiemme kun toi, oli vain hmryys ja sekava syys
Pelastusarmeijaporukka yn meteli ja pastori rumpua li
Mustat pilvet kerntyi ensin, aivan kohta jo rakeita lensi
Rnt, kivi, rapaa ja muuta, taivas alkoi sylke ja huutaa
Ja kuin jnnitetty jousi, ostoskeskus otti ja nousi
terksisille verkkojaloilleen, eik kukaan jisi aloilleen
Pkseen puolet Puolanmaata pisti, keskelle keikkumaan ntisti
Palavat silmns keltaisista hampurilaisketjun kirjaimista
Se li Vapaudenpatsaasta vinon, pilvenpiirtjist halkopinon

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song performed by YUP
Added by Lucian Velea
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Countdown To Zero

The night is cold, the sun is down
I see faces through the wire
No chance for them
No shoulder left to cry on
Its 4 am out on the street
Through the smoke I see the fire
Its a funeral pyre
For them to die on
{chorus}
Countdown to zero
Just begun
Coundown to zero
Its time to start the run
The city lights are fading now
As I climb into the plane
To shield me from
The stinging acid rain
And this is it, its over now
As we taxi down runway one
Tell me please

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song performed by Asia
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The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean

Unhappy about some far off things
That are not my affair, wandering
Along the coast and up the lean ridges,
I saw in the evening
The stars go over the lonely ocean,
And a black-maned wild boar
Plowing with his snout on Mal Paso Mountain.

The old monster snuffled, "Here are sweet roots,
Fat grubs, slick beetles and sprouted acorns.
The best nation in Europe has fallen,
And that is Finland,
But the stars go over the lonely ocean,"
The old black-bristled boar,
Tearing the sod on Mal Paso Mountain.

"The world's in a bad way, my man,
And bound to be worse before it mends;
Better lie up in the mountain here
Four or five centuries,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Diplomatic Platypus

I had a duck-billed platypus when I was up at Trinity,
With whom I soon discovered a remarkable affinity.
He used to live in lodgings with myself and Arthur Purvis,
And we all went up together for the Diplomatic Service.
I had a certain confidence, I own, in his ability,
He mastered all the subjects with remarkable facility;
And Purvis, though more dubious, agreed that he was clever,
But no one else imagined he had any chance whatever.
I failed to pass the interview, the board with wry grimaces
Took exception to my boots and then objected to my braces,
And Purvis too was failed by an intolerant examiner
Who said he had his doubts as to his sock-suspender's stamina.
Our summary rejection, though we took it with urbanity
Was naturally wounding in some measure to our vanity;
The bitterness of failure was considerably mollified,
However, by the ease with which our platypus had qualified.
The wisdom of the choice, it soon appeared, was undeniable;
There never was a diplomat more thoroughly reliable.
He never made rash statements his enemies might hold him to,
He never stated anything, for no one ever told him to,

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poem by Patrick Barrington
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Until Veera Came Along

Life begins at forty to you and,
Life begins at one to me;
All the same, we have to learn from each other.
At one, i was lost in transit;
But at forty, you have tuned yourself into my life.
You can't believe it,
You can't say it,
Until Veera came along into my life to let me see clearly;
Now, the rain is gone.

Sitting here in my shadow with words,
I can now make a move on my life;
Yes, the dark clouds are really gone by.
To England with words,
To Finland with ideas,
Like the game of the big bang!
I've got the big deal of my life to share with you.

Some say life begins at forty and,
Others say life begins at one;

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poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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No Power On Earth

The British Empire has a flag that flies throughout the World
And no power on earth can pull it down
It stands for peace and liberty where e’er our flag’s unfurled
But no power on earth can pull it down
We still can sing our good old song “Britannia Rules the Waves’
It’s just as true today that Britons never shall be slaves
The Union Jack still flies on high in spite of finnish knaves
‘Cos no power on earth can pull it down.

No power on earth can pull it down
That’s no foolish idle boast or brag
England, Ireland and gallant little Wales
Are united round our dear old flag
Scotland sends their Highlanders and proud of them we are
As soldiers they have gained world famed renown
The Scots are finely built - he’s the man that wears the kilt
And no power on earth can pull it down.

The man is sure to rise in life that sits down on a tack
But no power on earth can pull him down

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poem by Billy Bennett
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Donica - A Ballad

Author Note: In Finland there is a Castle which is called the New Rock, moated about with a river of unfounded depth, the water black and the fish therein
very distateful to the palate. In this are spectres often seen, which
foreshew either the death of the Governor, or some prime officer
belonging to the place; and most commonly it appeareth in the shape of
an harper, sweetly singing and dallying and playing under the water.

It is reported of one Donica, that after she was dead, the Devil walked
in her body for the space of two years, so that none suspected but that
she was still alive; for she did both speak and eat, though very
sparingly; only she had a deep paleness on her countenance, which was
the only sign of death. At length a Magician coming by where she was
then in the company of many other virgins, as soon as he beheld her he
said, "fair Maids, why keep you company with the dead Virgin whom you
suppose to be alive?" when taking away the magic charm which was tied
under her arm, the body fell down lifeless and without motion.

The following Ballad is founded on these stories. They are to be found
in the notes to The Hierarchies of the blessed Angels; a Poem by Thomas
Heywood, printed in folio by Adam Islip, 1635.

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poem by Robert Southey
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Look What You Did, Christopher!

In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,
And to prove to the people, by actual test,
You could get to the East by sailing West.
Somebody said, Sail on! Sail on!
And studied China and China's lingo,
And cried from the bow, There's China now!
And promptly bumped into San Domingo.
Somebody murmured, Oh dear, oh dear!
I've discovered the Western Hemisphere.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Well enough wasn't left alone,
And Columbus was only a cornerstone.
There came the Spaniards,
There came the Greeks,
There came the Pilgrims in leather breeks.

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poem by Ogden Nash
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Discoverer Of The North Cape. A Leaf From King Alfred's Orosius. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

Othere, the old sea-captain,
Who dwelt in Helgoland,
To King Alfred, the Lover of Truth,
Brought a snow-white walrus-tooth,
Which he held in his brown right hand.

His figure was tall and stately,
Like a boy's his eye appeared;
His hair was yellow as hay,
But threads of a silvery gray
Gleamed in his tawny beard.

Hearty and hale was Othere,
His cheek had the color of oak;
With a kind of laugh in his speech,
Like the sea-tide on a beach,
As unto the King he spoke.

And Alfred, King of the Saxons,
Had a book upon his knees,

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Windmill

'The Windmills of Your Mind' ('Les moulins de mon cœur') is a song performed by Noel Harrison, with music by Michel Legrand and English lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman, from the 1968 film, The Thomas Crown Affair.[1] The French lyrics were penned by Eddy Marnay.Noel Harrison took the song to #8 in the UK Singles Chart, and it won the Academy Award for Best Original Song in 1968.[1] Remarkably, Harrison's father, the British actor Rex Harrison, had performed the previous year's Oscar winning 'Talk to the Animals'.[1]The opening two melodic sentences were borrowed from Mozart's second movement from his Sinfonia Concertante for Violin, Viola and Orchestra.Dusty Springfield's version of the song from her album Dusty in Memphis is also well known; this version reached #31 on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart and #3 on the Billboard adult contemporary chart in 1969.[2] This recording also appeared on the soundtrack to Breakfast on Pluto (2006) .Other artists who have covered the song include Tina Arena, Petula Clark, Barbara Lewis, Alison Moyet, The Colourfield, Swing Out Sister, Edward Woodward, Parenthetical Girls, Esthero, Anne Clark, Sting (whose version was used in the 1999 remake of The Thomas Crown Affair) and Sharleen Spiteri on her The Movie Songbook album. The French rendering: 'Les moulins de mon couer', has been recorded by a number of artists including Richard Anthony, Johnny Mathis (with Toots Thielemans) , Patricia Kaas, Vicky Leandros, Nana Mouskouri, Jessye Norman and Caterina Valente. The song has also been rendered in Finnish as 'Samamlainen onni' recorded by Petri Salminen and also by Marita Taavitsainen; in German as 'Wie sich Mühlen dreh'n im Wind' recorded by Katja Ebstein and also by Vicky Leandros, and in Swedish as 'Vinden I Min Själ' recorded by Lill-Babs.

Under the Windmill a country lassie with a cane basket
She picks wild flowers hurriedly in the thicket
And a willet flies towards the marsh for her nest.
Far away cattle along the meadow
And a Red fox hoots on a hilltop willow.
Flock of cranes in the twilight sky.
It's getting darker and if I come to the Windmill
With my book of poetry,
Is it possible to get permission from your parents
To borrow a lantern for me,
Then I could have finished my reading early in the morning
And I promise you to return the Aladdin's wonderful lamp at your threshold
With a small chit saying thanks and my whereabouts before I leave?

for ShakespearesWaste Bin in gratitude!

*[First comment from my beloved; 'Hey! My old boy are you trying to be the Pied Piper of Hamelin? ']

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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West End Girls

(....forever)
Sometimes youre better off dead
Theres gun in your hand and its pointing at your head
You think youre mad, too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant in a west end town
Call the police, theres a madman around
Running down underground to a dive bar
In a west end town
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
Too many shadows, whispering voices
Faces on posters, too many choices
If, when, why, what?
How much have you got?
Have you got it, do you get it, if so, how often?
And which do you choose, a hard or soft option?

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song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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Commando Girls

This next song is
Is dedicated to those american fighting girls!
Thats right
Those american fighting girls
Who arent afraid to take the law into their own hands.
To die if necessary!
To keep our cities safe from criminal scum.
The oingo boingo proudly salutes the american commando girls
Commando girls
Commando girls
Commando girls wont you come out tonight?
Commando girls wont you come out and fight?
Commando girls youll never never catch them crying!
By daytime theyre receptionists
Accountant girls so clean
Late at night they hit the streets
Soldiers with a dream.
When they go out they arm themselves
With kakis and fatigues
Theyre tough as nails and armed to the teeth

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song performed by Oingo Boingo
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Beowulf (Episode 09)

ME thus often the evil monsters
thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword,
the darling, I dealt them due return!
Nowise had they bliss from their booty then
to devour their victim, vengeful creatures,
seated to banquet at bottom of sea;
but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,
on the edge of ocean up they lay,
put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them
on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk
are never molested. -- Light from east,
came bright God's beacon; the billows sank,
so that I saw the sea-cliffs high,
windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth
earl undoomed if he doughty be!
And so it came that I killed with my sword
nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles
ne'er heard I a harder 'neath heaven's dome,
nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!
Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch,

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Merry Christmas From Around The World

Afrikaans: Gesëende Kersfees

Afrikander: Een Plesierige Kerfees

African/ Eritrean/ Tigrinja: Rehus-Beal-Ledeats

Albanian: Gezur Krislinjden

Arabic: Idah Saidan Wa Sanah Jadidah

Argentine: Feliz Navidad

Armenian: Shenoraavor Nor Dari yev Pari Gaghand

Azeri: Tezze Iliniz Yahsi Olsun

Bahasa Malaysia: Selamat Hari Natal

Basque: Zorionak eta Urte Berri On!

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Remembrance Of Joseph Sturge

In the fair land o'erwatched by Ischia's mountains,
Across the charmed bay
Whose blue waves keep with Capri's silver fountains
Perpetual holiday,

A king lies dead, his wafer duly eaten,
His gold-bought masses given;
And Rome's great altar smokes with gums to sweeten
Her foulest gift to Heaven.

And while all Naples thrills with mute thanksgiving,
The court of England's queen
For the dead monster so abhorred while living
In mourning garb is seen.

With a true sorrow God rebukes that feigning;
By lone Edgbaston's side
Stands a great city in the sky's sad raining,
Bareheaded and wet-eyed!

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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Mostly Slavonic

I.—
Peter Michaelov

It was Peter the Barbarian put an apron in his bag
And rolled up the honoured bundle that Australians call a swag;
And he tramped from Darkest Russia, that it might be dark no more,
Dreaming of a port, and shipping, as no monarch dreamed before.
Of a home, and education, and of children staunch and true,
Like my father in the fifties—and his name was Peter, too.
(He could build a ship—or fiddle, out of wood, or bark, or hide—.
Sail one round the world and play the other one at eventide.)

Russia’s Peter (not my father) went to Holland in disguise,
Where he laboured as a shipwright underneath those gloomy skies;
Later on he went to England (which the Kaiser now—condemns)
Where he studied as a ship-smith by old Deptford on the Thames—
And no doubt he knew the rope-walk—(and the rope’s end too, he knew)—
Learned to build a ship and sail it—learned the business through and through.
And I’d like to say my father mastered navigation too.
(He was born across in Norway, educated fairly well,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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Impossible To Tell

to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert

Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,

The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. 'Bashõ'

He named himself, 'Banana Tree': banana
After the plant some grateful students gave him,
Maybe in appreciation of his guidance

Threading a long night through the rules and channels
Of their collaborative linking-poem
Scored in their teacher's heart: live, rigid, fluid

Like passages etched in a microscopic cicuit.
Elliot had in his memory so many jokes

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poem by Robert Pinsky
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Requiem

Not under foreign skies
Nor under foreign wings protected -
I shared all this with my own people
There, where misfortune had abandoned us.
[1961]

INSTEAD OF A PREFACE

During the frightening years of the Yezhov terror, I
spent seventeen months waiting in prison queues in
Leningrad. One day, somehow, someone 'picked me out'.
On that occasion there was a woman standing behind me,
her lips blue with cold, who, of course, had never in
her life heard my name. Jolted out of the torpor
characteristic of all of us, she said into my ear
(everyone whispered there) - 'Could one ever describe
this?' And I answered - 'I can.' It was then that
something like a smile slid across what had previously
been just a face.
[The 1st of April in the year 1957. Leningrad]

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poem by Anna Akhmatova
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The four Seasons of the Year.

Spring.
Another four I've left yet to bring on,
Of four times four the last Quaternion,
The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,
In season all these Seasons I shall bring:
Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,
At present claim'd, and had priority.
With smiling face and garments somewhat green,
She trim'd her locks, which late had frosted been,
Nor hot nor cold, she spake, but with a breath,
Fit to revive, the nummed earth from death.
Three months (quoth she) are 'lotted to my share
March, April, May of all the rest most fair.
Tenth of the first, Sol into Aries enters,
And bids defiance to all tedious winters,
Crosseth the Line, and equals night and day,
(Stil adds to th'last til after pleasant May)
And now makes glad the darkned northern wights
Who for some months have seen but starry lights.
Now goes the Plow-man to his merry toyle,

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poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Rahel to Varnhagen

NOTE.—Rahel Robert and Varnhagen von Ense were married, after many protestations on her part, in 1814. The marriage—so far as he was concerned at any rate—appears to have been satisfactory.

Now you have read them all; or if not all,
As many as in all conscience I should fancy
To be enough. There are no more of them—
Or none to burn your sleep, or to bring dreams
Of devils. If these are not sufficient, surely
You are a strange young man. I might live on
Alone, and for another forty years,
Or not quite forty,—are you happier now?—
Always to ask if there prevailed elsewhere
Another like yourself that would have held
These aged hands as long as you have held them,
Not once observing, for all I can see,
How they are like your mother’s. Well, you have read
His letters now, and you have heard me say
That in them are the cinders of a passion
That was my life; and you have not yet broken
Your way out of my house, out of my sight,—

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poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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