The Passion

As I began this poem, it became clear that the Lord wanted something with the intensity of the movie "The Passion." Although lacking the visual element, words evoke images, so it is all there. Take time with this, and let it seep into your spirit - take time to hear the sounds and see His Passion.

The angels must have cried out when they looked upon the scene,
To see the One they loved so much so beaten and demeaned.
The banisters of Glory could not hold them all
As they struggled there to watch Him as He’d stumble and He’d fall.

They’d seen Him mocked and beaten with the scourge and with the lash,
The crown of thorns put on Him by the men so rude and rash.
They’d seen Him torn and battered, they’d seen the crimson flood,
White bone exposed to daylight in a scarlet sea of blood.

They’d seen Him fall and stagger as He struggled there alone,
They’d seen the skin and sinew as they ripped it from the bone.
They’d heard the raging crowd as they cried out “Crucify!”
And they watched their darling Jesus as they led Him forth to die.

Now He stumbles and He staggers walking up the stony path,
He’s mocked and jeered and spat on by the people in their wrath.
(Not so very long ago He in the manger lay,
But now that’s all forgotten on this, His dying day.)

Oh, my! He falls and stumbles! Th’excruciating pain
Has bested Him, He can’t go on, He falls and falls again.
The lash snakes out and gouges Him along His quivering back,
He cries out but remains where He has fallen in His track.

Simon now is carrying the cross on up the hill;
And Jesus follows after, but He sways and stumbles still.
He staggers and He stumbles, He stumbles and He sways;
He leaves a trail of blood in the dust along the way.

And now up on the mountain top they lay Him on the wood,
Stretch forth His hands, impale them there, the epitome of good.
They nail His feet, then lift Him high, then they let Him drop;
His body quakes and trembles as He feels the jarring shock.

He hangs ‘twixt heaven and earth there, bleeding out His last;
The angels watch Him suffer and all heaven is aghast.
Their tears fall down like raindrops just to watch Him suffer so,
To see Him in such pain, to see His blood so freely flow.

A raging thirst inflicts Him, and He cannot draw a breath,
All His bones are out of joint as He fast approaches death.
The angels gasp to hear the Savior cry out from the tree -
“Oh, my God, oh why, my God, hast Thou forsaken me.”

The earth begins to tremble and the thunder rumbles loud,
The sun goes dark, the sky turns black, an enveloping, funereal shroud.
The Son cries “It is finished!” and then gives up the Ghost;
The angels weep to see the death of Him they loved the most.

With a sword they pierce His side, and blood and water flowed;
The soldier with the sword said “Surely, this must be the Son of God.”
His friends aghast, to see the last, of all their hope and trust;
The angels cast their downward glance at the death of all that’s just.

They took His body down and laid Him in a borrowed tomb;
They rolled a stone before the door to keep Him in the gloom.
The angels hide their faces underneath their folded wings;
Their sad grief knows no limits at the sorrow that it brings.

Three days, and then one morn an angel rolled the stone away;
The disciples came and looked and saw He was not where He lay.
For love is stronger far than death, and death its limits knows;
The Christ that suffered so for us is the Christ that for us rose.

Oh, friends, we know the story, how the Savior suffered thus,
He took the weight of all our sin and bore it there for us.
Are we as moved as angels as we contemplate this scene?
Or do we pass by glibly, and thus God’s grace demean?

Oh, let His Passion move us, let it be our rallying cry;
He suffered for He loved us, and that enough to die.
Let this be our passion – the Grace of God so free,
And let us in this love find all our life and liberty.

Exodus

The God of all power, the God of all might,
Dwelt with His people by day and by night.
Not with th'Egyptians or Syrians dwelt He,
But out in the desert, where no one could see.

A cloud of smoke was He in the day,
A pillar of fire by night in the way.
Frail people and small, this people of God,
But, oh, He was with them, on plain, common sod.

He'd freed them from Egypt, from slavery's grasp,
And brought them all out to freedom at last.
Ten plagues He had wrought, then saved by the blood,
Then on dry land through the Red Sea's strong flood.

Then on Mount Sinai He gave them the law;
The mount shook and trembled, the people in awe.
All along He provided, with rivers from rock,
Manna from heaven; He cared for His flock.

For forty long years He led them across
Sinai's vast desert; not once were they lost,
For 'twas all by His leading, all by His hand,
The wilderness wanderings across the vast land.

Then on to Canaan, He'd promised it so,
With milk and with honey the Promised Land flowed.
And each had a portion in the land that He gave,
Not one was lost, all His people were saved.

And we who have trusted in Jesus, our God,
Have been saved from our sin and been washed in the blood.
Perhaps we have wandered, and not known the way,
But Jesus was leading by night and by day.

He's fed us and kept us, we never have lacked,
And though we have wondered, we've never turned back.
For who would not follow a King such as this,
One who Has never once led us amiss?

And, oh, He is with us as He was in those days,
The fire is His acts, the smoke is His ways.
The light of His Spirit illumines our hearts
And we'll follow that light as we have from the start.

Come weather that's fair, or foul it may be,
We'll follow Him still for we care only that He
Is our constant companion, our guide and our friend,
And we'll walk with Him closely, on to the end.

The Lord's Prayer

"Our Father," 'tis a wond'rous thing
That we would call You such a name;
Father God, Life-Giver, Thou,
Strangers once, we're children now.

"Who art in heaven," so far, yet near,
You dwell among your people here.
Oh, rend the veil that we might see
How very near we are to Thee.

"Hallowed be Thy Name;" we'll praise
Your wond'rous name for all our days.
At your feet we lowly bow
And give you all our worship now.

"Thy Kingdom come," for this we cry,
To see your Kingdom reign draw nigh.
Our one and only Monarch, Thou,
Take up Thy crown and scepter now.

"Thy will be done," we cry, not ours,
As we approach the final hours.
Bring your Kindgom reign to birth
And redeem this fallen earth.

"On earth as heaven," you have planned,
Not in some far-off, distant land;
But here and now, and now and here,
This earth be in Thy Kingdom's sphere.

"Give us this day our daily bread,"
Daily would we thus be fed;
Thy flesh our bread, our drink Thy blood,
Thyself our necessary food.

"Forgive our debts," the things we've done
That caused the death of Christ, the Son.
Mercy sweet flows from the cross,
Forgiveness springs from Jesus' loss.

"As we forgive," Lord, may it be
That we in this might be like Thee,
That we may freely all forgive
And learn that thus we truly live.

"Into temptation lead us not,"
It leads us to sin's fires so hot.
We are weak and vile and small,
Keep us from temptation's thrall.

"From evil, Lord, deliver us,"
Keep us ever near the Cross -
Our place of safety, fount of grace,
Our shelter strong, our hiding place.

"Thine the Kingdom," Thou the King,
Thine the crown, throne, sceptre, ring;
Thine the power by Royal design,
Thine the power, the weakness mine.

I would not pray by rote alone,
But come humbly to Thy throne,
Cast all my crowns down at Your feet,
Know You in communion sweet.

My Poetry

I haven't written poetry for years. At one time there was a steady flow, but it stopped. But recently it has begun again. I have no explanation for this - it's just the creative work of God. I like to say that I don't write the poems, I just write them down. I have a place in my heart where the words come.

I am writing a new poem almost every day. This is the cruze of oil that never fails. This is the manna that's new every morning. This is daily bread.

These poems are life to me - I pray that they're life to you as well.

One question that always arises is "Why don't you sell these?" I did try at one time to market my songs; believe me, you have to know somebody or be more persistent than I am to make a go of it. This is my alabaster box - I'd just rather break the box and pour the ointment forth on our wonderful Jesus than to try to sell them.

Please check back every now and then. Although I can't guarantee that this will continue like Old Faithful and erupt every so often, I have found that God is faithful. I can't even begin to write a poem until I have posted the last one. I'd like to have one or two in reserve, but He won't let me. I just trust that He will continue to bless me with this unfolding of His word and His plan and that you will continue to be blessed. Please share the poems as you wish - I think God has His own distribution channel.

Thank you for reading.


Nick

You Shall Live

I hung on the cross next to Jesus,
On the cross next to His on the hill;
I was paying for crimes I committed,
For things I had done of free will.

I deserved what I got so completely,
I was guilty just as they said.
So they beat me and whipped me and hung me
On the cross there to hang until dead.

Oh, the pain was so great, I remember;
I knew then that all hope was gone.
My body was racked with the torture,
The day seemed an eternity long,

When there to my left I saw Jesus
Upon an old cross just like mine.
But I knew that He had done nothing,
I knew that He was Divine.

But why was He bleeding and suff'ring
Like me, just a liar and thief;
Why was He hanging and dying
On a cross; why take on this grief?

In a flash, then, I knew in an instant
When I heard Him pray "Father, forgive,"
That He came down to earth for this moment -
To die so that others might live.

The sinless One, Jesus, was dying
On a cross next to mine on the hill;
He'd taken the sin and the sorrow
Of the whole human race as God's will.

Such love, oh, I never had known it,
Such love as was shown by Him there;
All my grief and my sorrow forgotten,
As I managed to cry out my prayer -

"Lord Jesus, Lord Jesus, remember
When into your Kingdom you come,
Remember this thief and this sinner,
Remember this Adam's lost son."

Then the words that He spoke I shall never
Forget, when He answered my prayer -
"Today, friend, today you'll be with me.
In Paradise - you shall be there."

There is pardon for all who will cry out
To Jesus, who's taken our place;
He's there! He's so close, right next to you,
Just turn now and look on His face.

You'll see there such grace and such mercy,
As only a Savior could give;
Cry out to Him just like I did -
You shall live, you'll not die, you shall live!

Adam, Where Are You?

Oh Adam, my Adam, oh where have you gone?
Why have you stayed away for so long?
I've come to the garden in the cool of the day
For fellowship sweet that we've shared in the way.

I made you this garden with all its good things,
And the great Tree of Life to give your heart wings.
Another tree, too, in the midst did I place,
And gave you the choice of that tree to taste,

The Tree of the Knowledge of Evil and Good.
I fear you've partaken, I feared that you would;
You were created from dust of the ground,
And some of the earth realm within you is found.

Has the serpent beguiled you to eat of that tree?
Have you listened to him instead of to me?
Did he take what I said and twist it around
And thus give to sin a beautiful sound?

What's that? You're naked? Who told you you were?
Eve spoke to the serpent and you've listened to her?
I fear I must send you out from the midst,
To suffer and toil and labor like this.

But I'll make a way for you to return
To me in the garden, to the God that you've spurned.
I'll take on your sin, I'll take it as mine;
On a hill on a cross on Calv'ry you'll find

That the God of all love has taken your place,
My Son will have taken your sin and disgrace
And nailed it all there to the cross on the hill
And paid all the cost, if only you will

Come to me there, for I'll make a way
To restore you to Eden and win back the day.
His name is Jesus, and in Him you'll be
All that I ever had destined for thee.

In my death you'll die and in my life you'll live
And receive all I ever have wanted to give.
'Twill no longer be you, created from earth,
But all in the Son, of infinite worth.

Oh Adam, my Adam, find life in the Son,
For in Him both you and I can be one.
Forever my Son shall be the new way
And we'll walk in the garden in the cool of the day.

Behold, I Do A New Thing

"Oh, God, what shall I do?"
Cried Moses to the Lord;
"There's water on three sides,
To the the rear th'Egyptian horde."

"They followed us from Egypt
To the Red Sea shore;
They'll surely overtake us
And we shall be no more."

Then the pillar of the cloud
Went from before their face
And stood behind the Israelites,
God's protecting grace.

Light it was to them
But darkness to the foe;
All night it blocked their path,
They could not onward go.

A strong east wind did blow
When Moses stretched his hand,
And the Israelites went across
The sea upon dry land!

The enemy followed hard
Upon the Israelites' heels,
But then the Lord looked out
And removed their chariot wheels!

The Red Sea closed upon them,
And drowned them one and all;
God saved His chosen people
From th'Egyptian thrall.

Much later on we read
Of the disciples in the boat
Out on the stormy sea;
They had lost all hope.

Then Jesus came to them,
Walking on the waves;
When things were at their worst,
Jesus came to save.

Sometimes God parts the waters,
Sometimes He walks on them;
Mysterious are His ways
To the seeking hearts of men.

Look not for God to do
What He has done before;
He's always on the move,
Something new He has in store.

So when the water's high
And the clouds have all turned gray,
Ask not what He shall do -
He'll do it His own way.

Yours but to trust in Him
All for you to do;
He'll move heav'n and earth
And bring you safely through.

Lazarus

“Lazarus, our brother, has taken sick,
The one you love so very much,”
Said Mary and Martha. “Please come quick,
And heal him with your loving touch.”

"This sickness is not unto death,
But for my glory," spake the Son.
(The things that seem to us the worst
Bring greater vict'ries to be won.)

Jesus did not hurry there,
But, because He loved them so,
(O, the mysterious ways of God)
Stayed where He was; He did not go.

The one beloved had passed away
(Jesus said he was asleep).
At last He went; they met Him there,
With sorrow now so very deep.

"If you'd been sooner, he'd not have died,"
Both wept sorrowfully to the Lord.
But Jesus did not once despair,
Remaining faithful to His word.

"I am the Resurrection and the Life;
Your brother shall arise again.
Believe in me and you shall see
Things not seen before by men."

Then they took Him to the place
Where His stricken friend was kept.
He saw their sorrow, deeply moved;
'Tis recorded that He wept.

("Jesus wept," O wond'rous thought,
That He sees the plight of men;
That He sees and cares so much
For us who had offended Him.)

"Remove the stone," He told them then.
"But Lord, he has been dead so long."
"Only believe and thou shalt see
An end to death, and sin and wrong."

Then in a voice the dead could hear
He cried out "Lazarus, come forth!"
And Lazarus stepped forth from the grave,
And proved the Great Redeemer's worth.

Wrapped hand and foot and head with cloths,
He could not walk nor could he see.
Then rang Jesus' voice again -
"Unloose this man, and set him free."

His voice has pierced the stifling dark
Of the tomb that sealed me in,
Spoke His life into my death,
Raised me up to live again.

Like Lazarus I have come forth,
Released from death's cold, icy grasp,
Called to walk in risen life
And free to be with Christ at last.

And if He seems to have delayed
In things that I've asked Him to do,
It is because He is the King
And knoweth just what He shall do.

His timing's best, much better far,
Than all my little plans and schemes;
He has for me a risen life
Far beyond my fondest dreams.

The Return

I saw you from the doorway –
I’d been watching there for you,
Hoping you’d return
As wand’rers sometimes do.

You’d wandered such a long way,
So very far from home,
A stranger in a strange land,
Lost and all alone.

A far country took you from me.
When famine came in time,
All spent, poor as could be,
You fell to feeding swine.

Swine’s husks you fain would eat
But deep within said “No;
In father's house is meat;
To father’s house I’ll go.”

"The servants there fare better;
Perhaps I can be one.
I'll take a lower place,
Unworthy as a son."

And then one day I saw you,
Far, far down the path.
I leaped and I ran to you;
I had no thought of wrath.

I threw my arms around you,
So glad that you’d come home.
Hot tears ran down my cheeks,
My precious, long-lost son.

You said “I’ll be a servant.”
I said “You are a son.”
A robe, a ring, and new shoes,
For life, from death, was won.

Oh, reader, have you wandered?
Are you close as you should be?
The Father waits and watches
To catch a glimpse of thee.

Take one step! He sees you!
He’s coming, drawing nigh.
He’ll wrap His arms around you,
You shall live, you shall not die.

The robe is His salvation,
The ring, authority,
The shoes, a walk in God –
He giveth all to thee.

Psalm 8

David saw the Kingdom in his day, a people that would rule and reign over the earthly realm with heavenly authority - not to make fish and fowl go here and go there, but to vanquish sin in all its aspects, to conquer self, turn the world upside down.

David, as you sat out on the hill,
Beneath the stars so quiet and still,
Contemplated God's great will,

You saw the heavens so great and vast,
Our life a vapor soon to pass,
But grasped the plan of God at last

Of a people who would rule and reign,
Have dominion in His name,
Leave this sad world not the same.

Fully rescued from the fall,
They'd have dominion over all -
Fish, and fowl, and beasts that crawl.

Fish that swim in oceans deep
Are passions strong that try to keep
Us locked up in sin's depths so steep.

Fowls that fly across the sky
Are thoughts that crowd our minds and try
To make us our great God deny.

Sheep and oxen, beasts of the field,
Are our emotions which can yield
A heart against the Spirit sealed.

Those that live for Christ alone
Will receive from Him a stone
Of white, a name but to them known.

They shall prove Messiah's worth,
Bring His Kingdom reign to birth,
As in heaven, so on earth.

Miracle At Zarephath

The story of the widow woman at Zarephath can be found in 1 Kings 17. Zarephath means "workshop for refining metals."

The widow woman of Zarephath
Was preparing for her death;
A scant supply was all she had,
And then things went to worse from bad.

She and her son would eat their last
And then their lives would soon be past.
Then on that day the prophet came
And things would never be the same.

The prophet asked her for a drink
And just as she was on the brink
Of fetching that, the prophet said
"Oh, and please bring me some bread."

"I've only for my son and me;
Why can't you just let us be?"
But God had come with His demands
Which can't be met by human hands.

And just when things were at their worst
The prophet told her "Feed me first."
For he had heard a word from God
And even though it seemed now odd,

And told her if she'd meet his need,
She would never lack indeed.
She did just that and found it true -
God met his needs and her needs, too.

God has a bountiful supply -
The well is deep, it won't run dry.
So if you hunger, if you thirst,
Don't look to self - put Jesus first.

If your soul is on the brink
Give Him to eat, give Him to drink.
In serving Christ you're sure to find
Enough for thee and all mankind.

Then Came Jesus

The wind was so high and it made a sad cry
On the lake on that cold, fateful night.
The waves were so tall and our boat was so small;
So frightened were we in our plight.

'Twas all shrouded in mist, we'd not seen it like this,
In the years that we'd worked under sail.
As the storm reached it's peak the wind made a shriek
As a demon would make when it wailed.

It seemed like our boat no longer would float
And we'd plunge to the depths in the storm.
The night seemed so long and all hope was gone;
We were ragged and wet and forlorn.

And then there appeared, and by all greatly feared,
A man, one who walked on the deep;
There was nowhere to hide, "'tis a spirit," we cried,
It seemed like a dream from our sleep.

His robe was so white, it shone through the night;
"'Tis I," he said, "Don't be afraid."
In single accord we all knew 'twas the Lord,
And our fear, like the night, soon did fade.

On the sea He was borne, in the height of the storm,
He walked out to us on the waves;
When our frail boat was tossed and when all hope was lost
Then came Jesus, so mighty to save.

And Peter, brash lad, (such bravado he had),
Said "Lord, it it be really Thou,
Bid me come unto Thee; I'll walk on the sea,"
And Jesus said "Come to me now."

Oh, how I wish I had courage like this;
I, too, wished to run to my Lord.
Peter put his heart to it, he really did do it;
We gasped as he stepped overboard.

And he walked on the sea! (How I wish it were me!)
He walked toward the Lord on the waves!
Then he started to sink and slip into the drink
When the Lord stretched His hand forth to save.

And, friend, what of thee, art thou out on the sea
In a raging, tempestous storm?
Look for Jesus to come when the storm's work is done,
Look for Jesus and look for the morn.

He's coming just now - look over the bow,
He's walking to thee on the waves;
He's coming to thee and soon thou shalt see
That Jesus is mighty to save.

The Secret Of The Stairs

("The Secret Of The Stairs" is the title of a book by my spiritual father, Wade Taylor. The words are taken from the Song of Solomon. In the book he talks about our life experiences being as the risers on a set of stairs that bring us up higher in the things of God; as we ascend on the riser we then step onto the horizontal piece and walk out - and work out - the new thing that God is doing in our lives.)

I want to touch your hands, my Lord, and see
The marks of what you did that day for me.
I want to touch your side and really know
The pain and suffering you did undergo.

In things of Thee too casual I am;
My faith at times seems like a cheapened sham.
Too comfortable am I in things of God -
I want to walk the road that You have trod.

If I am suff'ring, let it be with You,
If I'm rejoicing, Jesus, be there, too.
And if I'm only passing time away
Then intervene and rescue back the day.

I want more purpose in this life of mine;
All lesser interests are just wastes of time.
I want to love you with the kind of love
That sent you here from realms of light above.

Oh, catch me up to higher realms with Thee
Where I can be who I was meant to be,
To stand on Zion, breath the upper airs,
To'ascend and know the secret of the stairs.

Let There Be Light

In the dark and dim recesses of eternity past,
In the high, vaulted chambers of the heavens so vast,
'Twas all inky blackness for ever and 'aye,
No light would ever be seen by the eye.

As ages rolled on 'twas always the same,
No light from a star, from a lamp or a flame.
For there was never a source of light ever born
To pierce the great darkness and bring on the morn.

For eons and eons the darkness prevailed
As a dark, conq'ring demon that had all impaled.
The darkness, victorious, ruled in its might,
One long, never-ending, unquenchable night.

And then, of a sudden, in the midst of the night,
There thundered from God the words "Let there be light!"
And the darkness rolled back as the light issued forth
To the East and the West and the South and the North.

Now darkness will never again have full sway -
Moon and stars rule the night and the sun rules the day.
Darkness eternal has had its great fall,
And God, who is light, rules high over all.

E'en so was my life once ruled by the night;
For, oh, far too long, was the darkness my plight.
Nor reason nor wisdom could pierce the dark cloud
And my life was enveloped by a dark, smoth'ring shroud.

'Twas darkness without and darkness within;
Darkness held sway, accomp'nied by sin.
And never a thought came to mind of the light,
And I relished the darkness and reveled in night.

And then, oh the day, I remember it well
When the light issued forth and pierced my dark shell.
It flooded my being, it flooded my soul,
I could see, I could feel, I could hear, I was whole!

Then Jesus came in and my chains fell away
And I rose up to walk in an endless new day.
Though darkness may come, 'twill ne'er rule again
For His blood has now covered my guilt and my sin.

And I walk in the light as a child of the King
Who has saved me from shame and from guilt and all things
That once were as darkness to my dark, troubled soul;
I'm a child of the light, I'm cleansed and I'm whole.

A Root Out Of Dry Ground

He hath no form nor comeliness
That he should be desired,
No beauty in his countenance
That he might be admired.

No natural beauty rests on him,
Not thus will he be found.
He is a rod from Jesse's stem,
A root out of dry ground.

When he stood on Jordan's shore,
There soon to be baptized,
No one knew him as he was,
He was not recognized.

He knew hunger, he knew thirst,
When Laz'rus died, he wept.
Fully God, yet wholly man,
All in him is kept.

He is a man as we are men,
He draws our human breath;
He walks our dusty streets with us,
He shares our Nazareth.

He who knows me as I am,
Who walks where I have trod,
Identifies himself with me
To bring me close to God.

Cast Up A Highway

The voice of one crying - hark, do you hear;
Does his voice in the wilderness fall on your ear?
"Prepare ye the way of the Lord, do not wait;
Cast up a highway, make it smooth, make it straight."

There cometh a king, will we hearken to this,
And prepare Him a way in the rough wilderness?
Cast up a highway and cast out the stones,
A highway that He may come unto His own.

Not to the temple or court was John sent,
But into the wilderness where it was meant
That he should awaken the people of God
To cast up a highway on plain common sod.

So quick! To the work! Are there stones in the midst?
Do we want Him to find such a welcome as this?
Habits or lusts, or any such thing?
Cast up a highway for Jesus our King!

And He will come gloriously in splendor astride
A white, armored horse He only can ride,
On this highway of holiness, soon you will see,
He'll call out your name and say "Come ride with me!"

Then He'll catch us all up in His arms there to ride
With our great King of kings, we'll be right by His side
As He travels the earth on this holy highway
On His conquering steed and we'll walk in His ways

And we'll rule and we'll reign with our great King of love,
This One who has come from heaven above.
And the way that we labored so hard to prepare
Will be the great highway that with Him we'll share.

Song of Love

Away, my love, come be with me,
The time of loves has come;
The winter time is past and gone,
The dove begins her song.

My heart is ravished with thy love,
'Tis far surpassing sweet;
I eagerly await to hear
The approaching of thy feet.

The cool of day has come again,
To the garden let us go;
Leave other loves behind to share
The love that we both know.

The @ Sign

The funny little a with its tail circling back around it is probably one of the most commonly used symbols today. So it is truly amazing to learn that there is no official, universal name for it. The most accepted term, even in many other languages, is to call it the at sign. But there are dozens of different words used to describe it. A lot of languages use words that associate the shape of the symbol with some type of animal.

Here are a few examples of the many exotic terms associated with the @ symbol:

apestaart - Dutch for "monkey's tail"
snabel - Danish for "elephant's trunk"
kissanhnta - Finnish for "cat's tail"
klammeraffe - German for "hanging monkey"
kukac - Hungarian for "worm"
dalphaengi - Korean for "snail"
grisehale - Norwegian for "pig's tail"
sobachka - Russian for "little dog"

Before it became the standard symbol for e-mail, the @ symbol was typically used to indicate the cost or weight of something. For example, if you bought five oranges for $1.25 each, you might write it as 5 oranges @ $1.25 ea. It is still used in this manner on a variety of forms and invoices around the world.
The actual origin of the symbol is uncertain. It was used by monks making copies of books before the invention of the printing press. Since every word had to be painstakingly transcribed by hand for each copy of a book, the monks that performed the copying duties looked for ways to reduce the number of individual strokes per word for common words. So, the word at became a single stroke of the pen as @ instead of three strokes. While it doesn't seem like much today, it made a huge difference to the men who spent their lives copying manuscripts!

Another origin tale states that the @ symbol was used as an abbreviation for the word amphora, which was the unit of measurement used to determine the amount held by the large terra cotta jars that were used to ship grain, spices and wine. Giorgio Stabile, an Italian scholar, discovered this use of the @ symbol in a letter written in 1536 by a Florentine trader named Francesco Lapi. It seems likely that some industrious trader saw the @ symbol in a book transcribed by monks using the symbol and appropriated it for use as the amphora abbreviation. This would also explain why it became common to use the symbol in relation to quantities of something.