ŷ������

“The fact was, I didn't know if I was built for happy endings.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Ballad: A Gathering of Faerie

“I've been waiting for you forever."

"Forever' as in several hundred years, or forever as in since my lesson began?”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Ballad: A Gathering of Faerie

“Ballads never end happily, everyone knows that.”
― Stephanie Garber, The Ballad of Never After

“As it whistles through the mountains, as it tickles blades of grass, as it pulls me from my bed, again, the wind, it cries your name.”
― C.L. Clark, The Unbroken

“Oooooooh,' says Jack, correctly interpreting my silence for a confession. 'Is he your lover? Is this a ballad we're in?'

'A murder ballad maybe,' I growl.

'No doubt, by the end,' he says. 'I wonder who will survive to compose it.”
― Holly Black, The Stolen Heir

“O no, O no, True Thomas,�� she says,
“That name does not belong to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
And I’m come here for to visit thee.”
― Anonymous, Thomas Rymer and the Queen of Elfland

“Lucy Gray
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray,
And when I cross'd the Wild,
I chanc'd to see at break of day
The solitary Child.

No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wild Moor,
The sweetest Thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the Fawn at play,
The Hare upon the Green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"To-night will be a stormy night,
You to the Town must go,
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your Mother thro' the snow."

"That, Father! will I gladly do;
'Tis scarcely afternoon��
The Minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the Moon."

At this the Father rais'd his hook
And snapp'd a faggot-band;
He plied his work, and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe,
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse, the powd'ry snow
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time,
She wander'd up and down,
And many a hill did Lucy climb
But never reach'd the Town.

The wretched Parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlook'd the Moor;
And thence they saw the Bridge of Wood
A furlong from their door.

And now they homeward turn'd, and cry'd
"In Heaven we all shall meet!"
When in the snow the Mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downward from the steep hill's edge
They track'd the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn-hedge,
And by the long stone-wall;

And then an open field they cross'd,
The marks were still the same;
They track'd them on, nor ever lost,
And to the Bridge they came.

They follow'd from the snowy bank
The footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank,
And further there were none.

Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living Child,
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome Wild.

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.”
― William Wordsworth, The Works of William Wordsworth

“Come all you fair and tender girls
That flourish in your prime
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme
Let no man steal your thyme
For when your thyme, it is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place your time was waste
Will all spread over with rue
Will all spread over with rue
The goddess son was standing by
Three flowers he gave to me
The pink, the blue and the violet true
And the red, red rosy tree
And the red, red rosy tree
But I refused the red rose bush
And gave the willow tree
That all the world may plainly see
How my love slighted me
How my love slighted me”
― traditional folk ballad

“Shut up, Dandelion,' the Witcher said.
'I have no intention of so doing. In fact I plan to compose the Ballad of the Two Tits. Please don't interfere.'
'Dandelion,' Dorregaray sniffed through his bloody nose. 'Be serious.'
'I am being bloody serious.”
― Andrzej Sapkowski, Sword of Destiny

“One of Locke's finest qualities was his ability to recast all their lowliest exploits as worthy of a ballad, told and retold until Cardan could almost believe that staggeringly better or thrillingly worse version of events. He could no more lie than any of the Folk, but stories were the closest thing to lies the Folk could tell.”
― Holly Black, How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories

“She was the one who’s life my presence can do magic, For that I left my dream it was the only logic”
― Merlin Thomas

“Dreams are not only about money as it seems, From outside it may not be visible but it has endless beams,
And most funny part of it is that dream never ends,
If you reach your dream place then new dreams it amends.”
― Merlin Thomas

“Success is not served in a tray,
To achieve it we have to make our own way,
I would like to end by saying that opportunity is within,
To fall down on our journey is not a sin,
But our failure should not hold our steps forward,
And for our dreams, we should never feel awkward”
― Merlin Thomas

“Do you remember when we went
Under a dragon moon,
And 'mid volcanic tints of night
Walked where they fought the unknown fight
And saw black trees on the battle-height,
Black thorn on Ethandune?

And I thought, "I will go with you,
As man with God has gone,
And wander with a wandering star,
The wandering heart of things that are,
The fiery cross of love and war
That like yourself, goes on.”
― G. K. Chesterton

“However great the fear, I will not look away
If at the end of everything, there is love”
― Hikaru Utada

“dlaurent
The Ballad of Johnny Jihad (Down Desert Storm Way). ©
c. 2001

During the Gulf War (1990-1991), American Pro-Taliban Jihadist John Philip Walker Lindh was captured while serving with the enemy forces. Here is his tale in song and legend. My nowex at the time did not want me to run to the radio station with this, thought I’d look singularly ridiculii.
The following, 'The Ballad of Johnny Jihad' is sung to the tune of 'The Ballad of Jed Clampett' (1962), commonly known as 'The Beverly Hillbillies' song, the theme tune for the TV show series starring Buddy Ebsen. (Lyrics, Paul Henning, vocals Jerry Scoggins, Lester Flatt; master musicians of the art of the ballad and bluegrass ways, Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs).

The Ballad of Johnny Jihad

(Sung) Come and listen to the story of Johnny Jihad,
Who left home and country to study his Islam,
And then one day he was shooting at our troops,
So down through the camp did the government swoop.

(Voice Over): ‘Al Que-da that is, Af-ghani Tali-ban, Terror-ist . . .��

(Sung) Well, the first thing you know ol�� John from ’Frisco roamed,
The lawman said ‘he’s a lad misunderstood very far from home.��
Said, ‘Californee is the place he oughta be,��
So they request his trial be moved to Berkeley . . .

(Voice Over): ‘Liberals that is, group-ies, peace-activists . . .��

Announcer: The Johnny Jihad Show! (Intense bluegrass banjo pickin�� music) . . .

(Sung) Now its time to say goodbye to John and all his kin,
Hope ya don’t think of him as a fightin�� Taliban,
You’re all invited back again to this insanity,
To get yourself a heapin�� helpin�� of this travesty . . .
Johnny Jihad, that’s what they call ’im now
Nice guy; don’t get fooled now, y’hear?

(Voice Over): ‘Lawyerin�� that is, O.J.ism, media-circus . . .�� (Music) . . .

end”
― Douglas M. Laurent

“Ah! A lady of mystery. My very favourite kind!' He's wearing a green doublet, with slits to show his silk shirt underneath. HIs fox eyes are alight. He looks like a faerie lover stepped out of a ballad, the kind where no good comes to the girl who runs away with him.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“لك الحمد يا إلهي على الابتلاء قبل العطاء�� على المرض قبل الشفاء، على البيت والعراء..فلولا انكسار البيت لما دخلت علينا
�� السماء بنجومها”
― Mahdi Mansour

“بناء العقلية المتكاملة بين العلم والفن والرياضيات والهندسة والتكنولوجيا هو جل ما أسعى للوصول إليه��
لا يمكن للمرء أن يستمر بالابداع اذا أطال الوقوف أمام حرم واحد للجمال��”
― Mahdi Mansour

“والآن�� في فصل الحنينِ
وحين يعرى حزن أيلول
�� لأنسام الشتاءْ
�� ينتابني وجعٌ وأسئلةٌ
لماذا الحزن مع عين السماءْ؟
�� ولأيّ قلبٍ كلّما انهمرت سماءٌ
�� فوق أرضٍ
‎أشته�� حبّاً مضى...
�� وتفوحُ رائحةُ النساءْ��”
― Mahdi Mansour

“الساكنون بهذا القلب قد عرفوا
أن السعادة لا تعني سوى الأملِ��
كل البلاد سجونٌ غير آمنةٍ��
إلا متى وجه مَن في البال، يضحك لي!”
― Mahdi Mansour

“أجمل تجليات الله، قلوب العاشقين�� وأجمل تجليات العشق، عيون المؤمنين�� هنا حيث العشق إيمان، والحجر كالشجر، والكلام كالسلام، يجد الشعر الضوء ليخرج بانسيابية من بين أنامل الأطفال وكسور الأفئدة��”
― Mahdi Mansour

“لَكِ فُسْحَةٌ كُبْرى بِذاكِرَتي
‎فَتَحَفَّظ��, أَرْجوكِ سَيّدَتي
‎ل�� تاجَ عِنْدي...لا قصور معي...
‎حَتّ�� تَكوني أَنْتِ مَمْلَكَتي
‎ل�� تُجْهِدي عَيْنَيْكِ بي فَأَنا
‎رَجُل�� جِراحاتُ الهَوى لُغَتي
‎أُشْف�� مِنِ امْرَأَةٍ بِإِمْرَأَةٍ
‎فَأَحُلّ�� مُشْكِلَتي بِمُشْكِلَةِ��”
― Mahdi Mansour

“كل صباح أرفع كوب الماء، وأتركه.
‎هكذ�� أطمئن إلى أن العالم لم يتغير، وقوانينه ما زالت تعمل...”
― Mahdi Mansour

“لم يكن لنا أجنحة، فاعتمدنا الخيال وسيلة للسفر...
لم يكن لنا هوية، فحفرنا ملامحنا في الحجر...
لم يكن لنا وطن، فصرنا نقلّد حيث نقيم خصال الشجر��”
― Mahdi Mansour

“لأنك أمعنت شكاً وظنّا
سأذكر أجمل ما كان منا
وأمضي، فلا البحر ضمّ الشراع
ولا الريح سارت كما نتمنى
وما دمت لا تطمئن بقربي
سأرحل عنك لكي تطمئنا...”
― Mahdi Mansour

“ليتني شجرةٌ،
لا أغادر بيتي وراء الأحبة إذ يرحلونْ...
كلما حفر الناس صدري بأسمائهم،
قلت: لا بأس أن يجرٓحٓ العاشقونْ...”
― Mahdi Mansour

“لا تقترب من كثيراً...
ابتعدْ حتى أراك...”
― Mahdi Mansour

“I had always felt that had I a muse it would disport itself in old ballad form.”
― Marion Angus, Christabel's Diary

“One instant in a still light,
He saw Our Lady then,
Her dress was soft as western sky,
And she was queen most womanly��
But she was queen of men.

Over the iron forest
He saw Our Lady stand;
Her eyes were sad withouten art,
And seven swords were in her heart��
But one was in her hand”
― G. K. Chesterton, The Ballad Of The White Horse