"Clear or Cloudy" as written by and Anthony Rooley John Dowland (pd)....
Cleare or cloudie sweet as April showring,
Smooth or frowning so is hir face to mee,
Pleasd or smiling like milde May all flowring,
When skies blew silke and medowes carpets bee,
Hir speeches notes of that night bird that singeth,
Who thought all sweet yet jarring notes outringeth.

Hir grace like June, when earth and trees bee trimde,
In best attire of compleat beauties height,
Hir love againe like sommers daies bee dimde,
With little cloudes of doubtfull constant faith,
Hir trust hir doubt, like raine and heat in Skies,
Gently thundring, she lightning to mine eies.

Sweet sommer spring that breatheth life and growing,
In weedes as into herbs and flowers,
And sees of service divers sorts in sowing,
Some haply seeming and some being yours,
Raine on your herbs and flowers that truly serve,
And let your weeds lack dew and duly starve.



Lyrics submitted by sillybunny

Clear or Cloudy song meanings
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  • 0
    General CommentWritten by John Dowland, this song is from "Songs From the Labyrinth."


    Clear or cloudy—sweet as April showers
    Her face is complacent or frowning to me
    Pleased or smiling like May in bloom
    When skies blow like silk and meadows are carpeted in green.
    She sounds like a night bird
    Singing sweet yet jarring notes

    She’s as lovely as a June day in bloom
    When it’s at its loveliest
    Her love is like a summer day
    With few clouds—I cannot doubt her love.
    She believes in me like rain and heat grace summer skies
    She is gentle thunder—lightning to my eyes.

    Sweet seasons of growth
    Bringing weeds among fruit and flowers
    Some by chance and some planted
    I wish enough rain for your herbs and flowers and may the rain overlook the weeds so they die.
    sillybunnyon August 24, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentCloudy, today?
    Seems to be—even in the skies.
    So you can relate to this song?
    Of course.
    But I wish you sweet seasons of growth.
    The weeds seem to be getting all the rain. I don’t care—let them.
    You are so like gentle thunder—running off on tangents and leaping to conclusions. This is like all four seasons in one day—something you happen to excel at and so apropos as a Sting song. Shelve everything you hear from the would-be-mr-know-it-all fluttering around your desk and …
    Listen to you? Oh, right … Come, heavy sleep sounds like a better idea. I’m not a good player in this game.
    Au contraire—baby, you’re the best.
    I just see weeds, weeds, and more weeds—flourishing like they were drenched with Miracle-Gro.
    sillybunnyon August 24, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentDo you remember our old ecstasy?
    Why would you bring it back again to me?
    Do you still dream as you dreamed long ago?
    Does your heart beat to my heart’s beating?—No
    They walked through weeds withered and grasses dead
    And only the night heard the words they said

    Nothing, I breathed to her, is less sure than the divine word
    She drank in each little saying
    Words that built a building strange
    Her eyes, from an angel, at times would range
    But how grave was our heart
    As she listened to him under a tree
    Into the labyrinth of down
    Of this marvel of an ear

    What shall I say?
    Worms tickle the moon’s appetite
    So sweet!
    At last I know what it is to hear and see
    How I shall love you now
    I speak of seeing you
    I know that you are living
    The welcome—is always elsewhere ….


    [paraphrased poetry]
    sillybunnyon September 14, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentPerfume is on the breeze
    Dreams—she is fanning me with the flavor of her lips
    They met—their eyes met in shining dust
    Alas—following you, her thoughts are wandering afar
    In this season of a million flowers
    Music floats through frosty woods
    The hour is passed—my lute is still
    In darkened rooms, you can see the green ghost fires
    From the flutes of the forest you can hear a thousand voices
    The palace ladies of long ago and never were—are dancing
    We sailed to the isle of parrots, gazed at the round moon
    Listened to the windy pines
    Suddenly we heard music—a sad song—coming on the wind
    My companions asked her why she wept
    Embarrassed—she peeks out to smile
    In a dream, we stared at each other
    Without a word—and burst into tears

    [paraphrased poetry]
    sillybunnyon September 30, 2006   Link

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