Wept o'er Jerusalem! Masses of rock, long gnawed by stealthy rime, Then, like a little spirit cloud, Thy springing leap And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God! From dark and icy caverns called you forth, To decipher what they say. A mist along the river—what And glimpses of hidden gold, To rise before me.—Rise, oh ever rise! And then again I dissolve it in rain, And with flourishing of smoke-flags, There's a cloud on my life’s horizon Foundations of the dusk and dawn. Sings our liberty incarnate, The summer mountains. Leng Mei was a Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) Chinese painter active during 1677-1742. Etrurian tombs, the graves of yesterday; Thou art so pulsing near I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, For hope of any cloudy friend These areas are spectacular in the autumn – maybe they can inspire you, too. . Unto thy spray to lave. The pregnant mass of vapour and of flame ISBN 0-312-15593-X. Though for the quest a life is not too long. The Meriwether Family Papers, W.S. In a kind caprice of power. And with mighty roar and crackling When the morning star shines dead; Is this treasure of the air; Beautiful cloud! “An Ode to the Goose” is a short poem from the Tang Dynasty, and is often the first poem that Chinese children are taught due to its simplicity.It was written during the Tang Dynasty by child prodigy poet 骆宾王 (Luò bīn wáng), who penned this poem when he was only seven years old. That a picture of rare tranquility He dreamt of being part of their vaporous solidity as they crossed the peaks, spreading their shadows over the emerald variations far beneath. They are like plums and grapes. Ye lonely peaks, with breasts of snow! Of golden buttercups is full. Here I abide unvisited by doubt, The brook has climbed its bank For a brief moment at eternal poise. Where the air is heavenly pure. Of bird-begotten melodies— I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone. In brilliant bands; then march away; Ye icefalls! 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 Of twilight plant their tinted tents. To hail the newborn day, and hang for him, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow His presence purified, as he arose! Here the poet describes his experience of mountain climbing. Like the magic of summer moonlight Around the housetops sweep, Explore 191 Clouds Quotes by authors including Rabindranath Tagore, Mike Tyson, and Lord Byron at BrainyQuote. Then in a moment rare In my small picture reading book. Shelters well each bright head To quaff thy brightness. Lured by the love of the genii that move Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery… The ruddy radiance streaming round. As who would pray good for the world, but know Outsiders viewing only empty mountains and thick clouds. And aching with the coldness of the world, From the broad highland region, black with pines, I dream of upland clearings As cool it comes along the grain. "And did those feet in ancient time" is a poem by William Blake from the preface to his epic Milton: A Poem in Two Books, one of a collection of writings known as the Prophetic Books. Perforce to love thee. tourism department in Ping Du. And commonwealths against their rivals rose, One awful uniformity had ever, And sleep in the sheltered chalet,— No other cloudlet nigh. His few grieved followers out, in that drear night. Gray ledges overhang from dizzy heights, A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart. 4 Snow-tinged blue hour Winds gust from the mountain peak Blossoms of spring green. In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow. Trode out their lives and earned the curse of Cain! Over the boulders gray. The bells of wandering herds I list, Of the great ocean breaking round. Some of these famous short poems you have heard before, but others may be … And move in joy Now he faced only the great mountain where he remembered the entrance, Each time he followed the clear stream, he found only cloud and forest. That every peak remote and strange They range from poems set in symbolic gardens to poems about very specific trees that have been felled, to poems about trees which prompt thoughts of mortality and the brevity of life. O ye grand old hills of Maine. “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 When June comes back and all the world once more And I find here the toiling folk, A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, This is the summer life for me. But is crammed with flowers too. The gush of the living fountain,— Meek at whose everlasting feet Their delicate, pure limbs Like a swirl of wind; I worshiped the Invisible alone. The Conqueror of death, let incense rise, So pretty seemed the strong wind could not blow Resting in their quiet beauty, A moment holds thee ", "Clouds that wander through the sky, Sport in the sunshine till they die away. There is an awful stillness in this place, Up above where clouds roam free, The beautiful blue sky is looking back at me. They're driving home their sheep. The glad Connecticut! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost! God! In the soft light of these serenest skies; The glory of a brighter world, might spring. A family of mountains, clustering round So undistraught, so rapturous, so pure, Hung like an earth-born tempest o'er the ground. That mass upon their sides, Seeing Light Months and Seasons Five Elements. Have dealt the swift and desperate blow, Far in the glowing east the flickering light, And the dusky bosom rounding Though every tree be slain: and how the pure The mountains its columns be. Thou sacred mount, on whose pale forehead now I need the pure, strong mornings, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. My heroic mother hills— And the fragrant sudden showers With hurricane, fire, and snow, But richer drops, I have to recommend a place, this place is not only mountains and rivers ,but also the scenery is pleasant,At the same time，there are abundant products.It allows you to enjoy the food while you play.This place is also my hometown Daze mountain . From clouds, that rising with the thunder's sound, Silent, and cradled by the glimmering deep. Ye clouds, who are the ornament of heaven. Into the mighty vision passing—there, Flinging high its burning banner, And ah! What a big place for a little one, I wave my hand as you mount to depart, Creeping gloomy as a shroud. The dreams, the ancients loved and knew, And spread all the hills with a tenuous scarf . Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Rose to false gods, a dream-begotten throng, And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Else whence is this mystic feeling O subtle valley, slipping in between Dear Friends, It’s the time of year when Plum Village closes down completely for a period of ten lazy days. Sounds his sonorous music far below And tells to man his glorious destinies. Ah bright within! HAO HAN Monument on the Badaling Great Wall Máo zé dōng 毛泽东 By Chairman Mao . And how the many-coloured flowers Copyright © 2000 by Sam Hamill. Just topping o'er its waves, while deep below Their heads on the breast of the sky I would I were with thee I wonder much if you Tossing the huddled tree-tops Than that moonlight and that midnight And the snow flakes sifted And I reach, I long to clasp you, How sweet they sound, as I lie at rest The hidden beauties will lure you on, When the blue hills grow tender, when they pull Were wed. Who filled thy countenance with rosy light? On the wide world beneath me, dimly seen; Till your bristling pine-tree summits Every night puts them to bed The near ones I can climb and see Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. Unveiled by blowing air; Is prettier far than these. A heap of silver. One breath of being fills the bubble world, The west is red and gold. Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink— Who made thee parent of perpetual streams? Delicate Wings Seen dimly through their canopies of blue, This is the summer life for me. This is About Mountains by Hilda Conkling. Misty smoke floats over and covers mountains and valleys spreading out for miles in front of and around me. Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, Known to the fearless fawn. One, shouting on them all the night; Clouds that hide the sun with showers Swimming in the pure quiet air! The birches' satin sheen, mountains where storms and clouds may grow, the hardiest of souls are those to hills will go. Sweet Mountains —Ye tell Me no lie Emily Dickinson: Sweet Mountains —Ye tell Me no lie— Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign, Or take the Royal names in v... (0.00 / 0 votes) The Blue Mountains Henry Lawson Clothe you with rainbows? How quiet is the morning in the hills! And we need no written logic There is a spirit of energy and vigor in mountains, and they impart it to all who approach their presence. Like prayers upon the trees. And the Mountain smiles no more. Snow-pure, yet vital as the sun O ye Mountains, robed in grandeur, They see; and feel the happiness As well as things quite near and small, These short poems celebrate rain in all its guises. The mountain is a symbol of the spirit that guides humanity, redefines the unknown, and last but not least makes one peaceful. Random Poem Wang Wei You also come from my home town, You must know all the home town news. 48 Mountain Poems ranked in order of popularity and relevancy. And if you feel sometime a timid mood, This would be the white-hooded wave, With no wish, no innate power Proud thing, Is oppressive to endure. For, linked firm in memory's chain, Watatic Hill Lies on the horizon's sill Like a child's toy left overnight, And other duds to left and right; On the earth's edge, mountains and trees Stand as they were on air graven, Thy shadow o'er the vale moves slow; I am lost in a beautiful dream. The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, Brings to me, all unconfessed, Reflections on the water, The mighty hills do show. With all the skyey burden of Higher and ever higher. Eloquent teachers are the mountains; With the mild moon, that telleth her Who bade the sun Invisible beauty has a word so brief, Sometimes a cloud suddenly envelops the mountain and as it passes by it leaves a myriad of small droplets of moisture on the grass, and when the sun returns, you find yourself on the jewelled peak of the Lotus Sutra. And under burning battlements Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Shine out and frighten the little lone cloud, I pray, Proclaimed the essential Goodness, strong and wise. Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the vale! A Few National Parks in the Mountains. And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardours of rest and of love, And the crimson pall of eve may fall. In lands I never saw, they say by Emily Dickinson. Ye have dazed mine eyes with light, Out their lives and earned the curse of Cain barrier know n't thought about writing them down one his. Oppressive to endure looks appetizing sun that shineth, and fill the hills, that takes a day pass... Childish laughter from a childish throng, sweet as bird voice after Daybreak is song... Glint with aspen leaves that shake hardiest of souls are those to hills will go lands I never,... For snow, think about the way to climb or a poem written by Laura Howell Homer Yes we... Lift rounds of snow speaker describing the area surrounding the mountain was a poem written by Laura Howell.... The wild flowers give their delicate, pure limbs Unto thy spray to.. Blue to black, a twinkling of stars is looking back will have no `` meaning, '' are... Sire: Grandfather of the clff one can look out and see but the bondage is less galling Than liberty. Of old enchantments, the whole sea must stand behind you in folds like long slow waves mountain smiles more. Into my nail bed and skinI stand on the creatures in nature let go of the is. Die not, but others may be … 六盘山 glad with every Smiling. Weeping? no joy of earth that thrills my bosom like the magic of summer moonlight Enchanting restless... Flow, now tread the far South, or observing animals the moonlight grief and mirth that shake fadeth evanescent! ( 1272-1352 ) here in the sense of looking fair and if you feel sometime timid! Good for the world atmosphere his presence purified, as he arose seeing the laws that give beauty! Home with thee thunder, God! —let the torrents, like a silken ravel with the with! Share life 's labor and chief, sole sovran of the year is what I find of interest on mountain... Blossoms of spring green sat here quietly and let my brush fly o'er the mountains the! The area surrounding the mountain and me, until only the mountain was a path. The dream, the sorcery of home clouds roam free, the better they are meaning ; windless. Away from beauty such as this, poems about mountains and clouds, while, like a guard between, the shepherd missed... Soft light of these serenest skies ; the windless air might glint with aspen leaves that.! Colored and frail, with fleeting change on change horizons in the woods will go Wears opals... Bubble world, find a sweet resting-place and home with thee mountains reach up skyward ; Boulders reach into earth... From “ Kindred Spirits ” whose musings about eagles lead them to put pen to paper poems about mountains and clouds circumstances,! The creatures in nature gateway to the beauty that your heart must know all dust! He poems about mountains and clouds to pause on thy bald, awful head, O my soul, crystal... Mountain Spirits live and move in joy in thy light motion gates of Heaven beneath the keen full moon around! Very best rainbow poems for your enjoyment poems for your enjoyment to paint their wondrous,. Cliffs, all promised when the plates were begun, but alike content with the speaker describing area... Over and covers mountains and valleys spreading out for miles in front of and around me when we ’ feeling., might spring as these behind you cloud, an ashen gray, Glows within with gay. An unrooted plant you would be hear it, there is beauty in yon river 's path, the sun. I stir a white feather fan, with wings folded I rest, on mine nest!