Rivers

"I am the prince who decides the destiny of rolling rivers."

"All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again."

"You cannot step twice into the same rivers; for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you."

"Let's lie down on the bank of the river and listen to water's pulse."

"A river is more than an amenity, it is a treasure. It offers a necessity of life that must be rationed among those who have power over it."

"Rivers have been personalized (Old Father Thames), fantasized (Anna Livia Plurabelle), sung to (Ol' Man River), regarded as sacred (Ganges, Alph) invented to symbolize the inevitability of death (Styx), remembered because they marked turning points in human history (Rubicon). If it were not for the winding Maiandros we would not meander; without the Rhine literature and music would be the poorer by the loss of countless legends; Christ was baptized in the Jordan. And when river and city meet, the human race puts down roots of civilization; it is my consciousness of that truth that makes it impossible for me to get used to the idea of invisible rivers, those streams that have been covered over as cities spread, but continue to flow silently and unseen beneath the streets."

"I want no more than to speak simply to be granted that grace. Because we've loaded our songs with so much music that they're slowly sinking and we've decorated our art so much that its features have been eaten away by gold and it's time to say our few words because tomorrow our soul sets sail. ...I think so much these days about the great river, that symbol which moves forward among herbs and greenery and beasts that graze and drink, and men who sow and harvest, great tombs even and small habitations of the dead. That current which goes its way and which is not so different from the blood of men..."

"There is a river in Macedon, and there is also, moreover, a river at Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river. But ’tis all one; ’tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both."

"All rivers at night are melancholy, sentimental, sad, like emblems of the mystery and unreality of human things. Under their spell we seem to see things larger than our own small selves."

"The cloud, wearing white on white like Siva, making beautiful the sky on his way from the sea grew dark as the face of the Lord who wears with pride on his right the Goddess of the scented breasts."

"They pour like a generous giver giving all he has, remembering and reckoning all he has."

"It floods, it runs over its continents like the fame of a great king, upright, infallible, reigning by the Laws under cool royal umbrellas."

"Concubines caressing their lovers' hair, their lovers' bodies, their lovers' limbs, take away whole hills of wealth yet keep little in their spendthrift hands as they move on: so too the waters flow from the peaks to the valleys, beginning high and reaching low."

"The flood carrying all before it like merchants, caravans loaded with gold, pearls, peacock feathers and rows of white tusk and fragrant woods."

"Bending to a curve, the river, surface colored by petals, gold yellow pollen, honey, the ochre flow of elephant lust, looked much like a rainbow."

"Ravaging hillsides, uprooting trees, covered with fallen leaves all over, the waters came, like a monkey clan facing restless seas looking for a bridge."

"Thick-faced proud elephants ranged with foaming cavalier horses filling the air with the noise of war, raising banners, the flood rushes as for a battle with the sea."

"Stream of numberless kings in the line of the Sun, continuous in virtue: the river branches into deltas, mother's milk to all lives on the salt sea-surrounded land."

"Scattering a robber camp on the hills with a rain of arrows, the sacred women beating their bellies and gathering bow and arrow as they run, the waters assault villages like the armies of a king."

"Stealing milk and buttermilk, guzzling on warm ghee and butter straight from the pots on the ropes, leaning the marutam tree on the kuruntam carrying away the clothes and bracelets of goatherd girls at water games, like Krsna dancing on the spotted snake, the waters are naughty."

"Turning forest into slope, field into wilderness, seashore into fertile land, changing boundaries, exchanging landscapes, the reckless waters roared on like the pasts that hurry close on the heels of lives."

"Born of Himalayan stone and mingling with the seas, it spreads, ceaselessly various, one and many at once, like that Original even the measureless Vedas cannot measure with words."

"Through pollen-dripping groves, clumps of champak, lotus pools, water places with new sands, flowering fields cross-fenced with creepers, like a life filling and emptying a variety of bodies, the river flows on."

"And see the rivers how they run Through woods and meads, in shade and sun, Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,— Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life to endless sleep!"

"The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards, (i.e. everything is turned topsy turvy)."

"Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes a benefaction to the towns They visit, wandering silently among them, Like patriarchs old among their shining tents."

"By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals."

"Les rivières sent des chemins qui marchant et qui portent où l'on veut aller."

"Viam qui nescit qua deveniat ad mare Eum oportet amnem quærere comitem sibi."

"May the river of love always flow from its own lap."

"Now scantier limits the proud arch confine, And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine; A small Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd, And little eagles wave their wings in gold."

"From Stirling Castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled; Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay, And with the Tweed had travelled; And when we came to Clovenford, Then said "my winsome marrow," "Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside, And see the braes of Yarrow.""

"Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise."

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree; Where Alph, the sacred river ran, Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea."

"At last the Muses rose, * * * And scattered, * * * as they flew, Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers To Arno's myrtle border."

"Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green; The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar Twined amorous round the raptured scene."

"Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those. The bursting tears my heart declare; Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr."

"Yet I will look upon thy face again, My own romantic Bronx, and it will be A face more pleasant than the face of men. Thy waves are old companions, I shall see A well remembered form in each old tree And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy."

"Where stray ye, Muses! in what lawn or grove, * * * * * * In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides, Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?"

"Out of the hills of Habersham, Down the valleys of Hall, I hurry amain to reach the plain: Run the rapid and leap the fall, Split at the rock, and together again Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, And flee from folly on every side With a lover's pain to attain the plain, Far from the hills of Habersham, Far from the valleys of Hall."

"How sweet to move at summer's eve By Clyde's meandering stream, When Sol in joy is seen to leave The earth with crimson beam; When islands that wandered far Above his sea couch lie, And here and there some gem-like star Re-opes its sparkling eye."

"Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black, Cutting through the jungle with a golden track."

"Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river, Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever."

""O Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, Across the sands o' Dee;" The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam And all alone went she."

"Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care!"

"Oh, my beloved nymph, fair Dove, Princess of rivers, how I love Upon thy flowery banks to lie, And view thy silver stream, When gilded by a summer's beam! And in it all thy wanton fry, Playing at liberty; And with my angle, upon them The all of treachery I ever learned, industriously to try!"

"On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Isar, rolling rapidly."

"Thou soft-flowing Keedron by thy silver stream Our Saviour at midnight when Cynthia's pale beam Shone bright on the waters, would oftentimes stray And lose in thy murmurs the toils of the day."

"On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee,— With thy bells of Shandon, That sounds so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee."

"On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod the Arcadian plain. Pure stream! in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave; No torrents stain thy limpid source, No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread."

"And Potomac flowed calmly, scarce heaving her breast, With her low-lying billows all bright in the west, For a charm as from God lulled the waters to rest Of the fair rolling river."

"Is it not better, then, to be alone, And love Earth only for its earthly sake? By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone Or the pure bosom of its nursing lake."

"Thou Royal River, born of sun and shower In chambers purple with the Alpine glow, Wrapped in the spotless ermine of the snow And rocked by tempests!"

"Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po!"

"Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd, And bright were its flowery banks to his eye; But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd, And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh."

"Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere's whar ma heart am turning ebber, Dere's whar de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation, Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home."

"Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willow'd shore."

"O, could I flow like thee! and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme; Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull; Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full."

"Serene yet strong, majestic yet sedate, Swift without violence, without terror great."

"Slow let us trace the matchless vale of Thames; Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore."

"Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will. Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!"

"Thou hast fair forms that move With queenly tread; Thou hast proud fanes above Thy mighty dead. Yet wears thy Tiber's shore A mournful mien:- Rome, Rome, thou art no more As thou hast been."

"Those graceful groves that shade the plain, Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main, And flattens, as he runs, the fair campagne."

"Oh Tiber, father Tiber, to whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, take thou in charge this day!"

"Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all."

"Thy braes were bonnie, Yarrow stream, When first on them I met my lover; Thy braes how dreary, Yarrow stream, When now thy waves his body cover!"

"O lovely river of Yvette! O darling river! like a bride, Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette, Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide. O lovely river of Yvette! O darling stream! on balanced wings The wood-birds sang the chansonnette That here a wandering poet sings."

"I see the winding waters make A short and then a shorter lake As here stand I And houseboat-high Survey the upper Thames."

"Älä mene joen yli vettä hakemaan. (Alahärmä, Southern Bothnia) (MMT)"