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Pearl Of The Quarter

On the water down in new orleans
My babys the pearl of the quarter
Shes a charmer like you never seen
Singing voulez vous
Where the sailor spend his hard-earned pay
Red beans and rice for a quarter
You can see her almost any day
Singing voulez vous
Chorus:
And if you hear from my louise
Wont you tell her I love her so
Please make it clear
When her day is done
She got a place to go
I walked alone down the miracle mile
I met my baby by the shine of the martyr
She stole my heart with her cajun smile
Singing voulez vous
She loved the million dollar words I say
She loved the candy and the flowers that I bought her
She said she loved me and was on her way
Singing voulez vous
Chorus

song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Volez-Vous

People everywhere
A sense of expectation hanging in the air
Giving out a spark
Across the room your eyes are glowing in the dark
And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end
Masters of the scene
We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more
You know what I mean
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Take it now or leave it (ah-ha)
Now it's all we get (ah-ha)
Nothing promised, no regrets
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Ain't no big decision (ah-ha)
You know what to do (ah-ha)
La question c'est voulez-vous
Voulez-vous.........
I know what you think
"The girl means business so I'll offer her a drink"
Looking mighty proud
I see you leave your table, pushing through the crowd
I'm really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game
Master of the scene
We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more
You know what I mean
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Take it now or leave it (ah-ha)
Now it's all we get (ah-ha)
Nothing promised, no regrets
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Ain't no big decision (ah-ha)
You know what to do (ah-ha)
La question c'est voulez-vous
And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end
Masters of the scene
We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more
You know what I mean
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Take it now or leave it (ah-ha)
Now it's all we get (ah-ha)
Nothing promised, no regrets
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Ain't no big decision (ah-ha)
You know what to do (ah-ha)
La question c'est voulez-vous
Voulez-vous.........
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)
Take it now or leave it (ah-ha)
Now it's all we get (ah-ha)
Nothing promised, no regrets

[...] Read more

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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A des oiseaux envolés

Enfants ! - Oh ! revenez ! Tout à l'heure, imprudent,
Je vous ai de ma chambre exilés en grondant,
Rauque et tout hérissé de paroles moroses.
Et qu'aviez-vous donc fait, bandits aux lèvres roses ?
Quel crime ? quel exploit ? quel forfait insensé ?
Quel vase du Japon en mille éclats brisé ?
Quel vieux portrait crevé ? Quel beau missel gothique
Enrichi par vos mains d'un dessin fantastique ?
Non, rien de tout cela. Vous aviez seulement,
Ce matin, restés seuls dans ma chambre un moment,
Pris, parmi ces papiers que mon esprit colore,
Quelques vers, groupe informe, embryons près d'éclore,
Puis vous les aviez mis, prompts à vous accorder,
Dans le feu, pour jouer, pour voir, pour regarder
Dans une cendre noire errer des étincelles,
Comme brillent sur l'eau de nocturnes nacelles,
Ou comme, de fenêtre en fenêtre, on peut voir
Des lumières courir dans les maisons le soir.

Voilà tout. Vous jouiez et vous croyiez bien faire.

Belle perte, en effet ! beau sujet de colère !
Une strophe, mal née au doux bruit de vos jeux,
Qui remuait les mots d'un vol trop orageux !
Une ode qui chargeait d'une rime gonflée
Sa stance paresseuse en marchant essoufflée !
De lourds alexandrins l'un sur l'autre enjambant
Comme des écoliers qui sortent de leur banc !
Un autre eût dit : - Merci ! Vous ôtez une proie
Au feuilleton méchant qui bondissait de joie
Et d'avance poussait des rires infernaux
Dans l'antre qu'il se creuse au bas des grands journaux. -
Moi, je vous ai grondés. Tort grave et ridicule !

Nains charmants que n'eût pas voulu fâcher Hercule,
Moi, je vous ai fait peur. J'ai, rêveur triste et dur,
Reculé brusquement ma chaise jusqu'au mur,
Et, vous jetant ces noms dont l'envieux vous nomme,
J'ai dit : - Allez-vous-en ! laissez-moi seul ! - Pauvre homme !
Seul ! le beau résultat ! le beau triomphe ! seul !
Comme on oublie un mort roulé dans son linceul,
Vous m'avez laissé là, l'oeil fixé sur ma porte,
Hautain, grave et puni. - Mais vous, que vous importe !
Vous avez retrouvé dehors la liberté,
Le grand air, le beau parc, le gazon souhaité,
L'eau courante où l'on jette une herbe à l'aventure,
Le ciel bleu, le printemps, la sereine nature,
Ce livre des oiseaux et des bohémiens,
Ce poème de Dieu qui vaut mieux que les miens,
Où l'enfant peut cueillir la fleur, strophe vivante,

[...] Read more

poem by Victor Hugo
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A ceux qui sont petits

Est-ce ma faute à moi si vous n'êtes pas grands ?
Vous aimez les hiboux, les fouines, les tyrans,
Le mistral, le simoun, l'écueil, la lune rousse ;
Vous êtes Myrmidon que son néant courrouce ;
Hélas ! l'envie en vous creuse son puits sans fond,
Et je vous plains. Le plomb de votre style fond
Et coule sur les noms que dore un peu de gloire,
Et, tout en répandant sa triste lave noire,
Tâche d'être cuisant et ne peut qu'être lourd.
Tortueux, vous rampez après tout ce qui court ;
Votre oeil furieux suit les grands aigles véloces.
Vous reprochez leur taille et leur ombre aux colosses ;
On dit de vous : - Pygmée essaya, mais ne put.-
Qui haïra Chéops si ce n'est Lilliput ?
Le Parthénon vous blesse avec ses fiers pilastres ;
Vous êtes malheureux de la beauté des astres ;
Vous trouvez l'océan trop clair, trop noir, trop bleu ;
Vous détestez le ciel parce qu'il montre Dieu ;
Vous êtes mécontents que tout soit quelque chose ;
Hélas, vous n'êtes rien. Vous souffrez de la rose,
Du cygne, du printemps pas assez pluvieux.
Et ce qui rit vous mord. Vous êtes envieux
De voir voler la mouche et de voir le ver luire.
Dans votre jalousie acharnée à détruire
Vous comprenez quiconque aime, quiconque a foi,
Et même vous avez de la place pour moi !
Un brin d'herbe vous fait grincer s'il vous dépasse ;
Vous avez pour le monde auguste, pour l'espace,
Pour tout ce qu'on voit croître, éclairer, réchauffer,
L'infâme embrassement qui voudrait étouffer.
Vous avez juste autant de pitié que le glaive.
En regardant un champ vous maudissez la sève ;
L'arbre vous plaît à l'heure où la hache le fend ;
Vous avez quelque chose en vous qui vous défend
D'être bons, et la rage est votre rêverie.
Votre âme a froid par où la nôtre est attendrie ;
Vous avez la nausée où nous sentons l'aimant ;
Vous êtes monstrueux tout naturellement.
Vous grondez quand l'oiseau chante sous les grands ormes.
Quand la fleur, près de vous qui vous sentez difformes,
Est belle, vous croyez qu'elle le fait exprès.
Quel souffle vous auriez si l'étoile était près !
Vous croyez qu'en brillant la lumière vous blâme ;
Vous vous imaginez, en voyant une femme,
Que c'est pour vous narguer qu'elle prend un amant,
Et que le mois de mai vous verse méchamment
Son urne de rayons et d'encens sur la tête ;
Il vous semble qu'alors que les bois sont en fête,
Que l'herbe est embaumée et que les prés sont doux,
Heureux, frais, parfumés, charmants, c'est contre vous.

[...] Read more

poem by Victor Hugo
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A Dramatic Poem

The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at the left of the stage; it is a long oar coming through an opening in the bulwark. The deck rises in a series of steps hehind the tiller, and the stern of the ship curves overhead. When the play opens there are four persons upon the deck. Aibric stands by the tiller. Forgael sleeps upon the raised portion of the deck towards the front of the stage. Two Sailors are standing near to the mast, on which a harp is hanging.

First Sailor. Has he not led us into these waste seas
For long enough?
Second Sailor. Aye, long and long enough.
First Sailor. We have not come upon a shore or ship
These dozen weeks.
Sccond Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn --
For I am getting on in life -- to something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
First Sailor. I am so tired of being bachelor
I could give all my heart to that Red Moll
That had but the one eye.
Second Sailor. Can no bewitchment
Transform these rascal billows into women
That I may drown myself?
First Sailor. Better steer home,
Whether he will or no; and better still
To take him while he sleeps and carry him
And drop him from the gunnel.
Second Sailor. I dare not do it.
Were't not that there is magic in his harp,
I would be of your mind; but when he plays it
Strange creatures flutter up before one's eyes,
Or cry about one's ears.
First Sailor. Nothing to fear.
Second Sailor. Do you remember when we sank that
galley
At the full moon?
First Sailor. He played all through the night.
Second Sailor. Until the moon had set; and when I looked
Where the dead drifted, I could see a bird
Like a grey gull upon the breast of each.
While I was looking they rose hurriedly,
And after circling with strange cries awhile
Flew westward; and many a time since then
I've heard a rustling overhead in the wind.
First Sailor. I saw them on that night as well as you.
But when I had eaten and drunk myself asleep
My courage came again.
Second Sailor. But that's not all.
The other night, while he was playing it,
A beautiful young man and girl came up
In a white breaking wave; they had the look
Of those that are alive for ever and ever.
First Sailor. I saw them, too, one night. Forgael was
playing,
And they were listening ther& beyond the sail.
He could not see them, but I held out my hands

[...] Read more

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Pearl

Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.

2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.

3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.

4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Voulez Vous

(b. andersson / b. ulvaeus)
People everywhere,
A sense of expectation hanging in the air.
Giving out a spark,
cross the room your eyes are glowing in the dark.
And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end,
Masters of the scene.
Weve done it all before and now were back to get some more,
You know what I mean.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Take it now or leave it! (aha)
Now is all we get, (aha)
Nothing promised, no regrets.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Aint no big decision, (aha)
You know what to do. (aha)
La question cest voulez-vous?
Voulez-vous...?
I know what you think:
The girl means business, so Ill offer her a drink.
Feeling mighty proud,
See you leave your table, pushing through the crowd.
Im really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game,
Master of the scene.
Weve done it all before and now were back to get some more,
You know what I mean.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Take it now or leave it! (aha)
Now is all we get, (aha)
Nothing promised, no regrets.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Aint no big decision, (aha)
You know what to do. (aha)
La question cest voulez-vous?
Im really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game,
Master of the scene.
Weve done it all before and now were back to get some more,
You know what I mean.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Take it now or leave it! (aha)
Now is all we get, (aha)
Nothing promised, no regrets.
Voulez-vous? (aha)
Aint no big decision, (aha)
You know what to do. (aha)
La question cest voulez-vous?
Voulez-vous...?
(aha, aha, aha)
(aha, aha, aha)
Voulez-vous? (aha)

[...] Read more

song performed by Erasure
Added by Lucian Velea
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Twin State

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Louise

Louise
It seemed a long time ago
Louise
Ill always remember that day
I crawled on my knees
Begging you to stay
You made me shiver louise
You made me quiver
Now I do the strangest things
I think such lonely thoughts
Forgetting all
Just forgetting you
Louise
Anything at all
Not to think of you
Anything at all
Dont deny it is not true
Louise
I feel I am getting weaker
A life blue on gloomy waves
I feel I am diving deeper
Into the darkest caves
Theres nothing at all
To find a way
Louise louise louise
My heart used to beat
Now it only weeps
Louise louise louise
Uncared the city sleeps
I am twisted in the streets
I am shivering
Into the strangest things
Lonely thoughts and forgetting you louise
And you promised me
You told me
You told me empty lies
Louise louise louise
( my only cord is not to adore , I have to say, it is my only way )
Louise leave me , leave me
No longer interfere
Louise
Louise

song performed by Xymox
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Villequier

Maintenant que Paris, ses pavés et ses marbres,
Et sa brume et ses toits sont bien loin de mes yeux ;
Maintenant que je suis sous les branches des arbres,
Et que je puis songer à la beauté des cieux ;

Maintenant que du deuil qui m'a fait l'âme obscure
Je sors, pâle et vainqueur,
Et que je sens la paix de la grande nature
Qui m'entre dans le cœur ;

Maintenant que je puis, assis au bord des ondes,
Emu par ce superbe et tranquille horizon,
Examiner en moi les vérités profondes
Et regarder les fleurs qui sont dans le gazon ;

Maintenant, ô mon Dieu ! que j'ai ce calme sombre
De pouvoir désormais
Voir de mes yeux la pierre où je sais que dans l'ombre
Elle dort pour jamais ;

Maintenant qu'attendri par ces divins spectacles,
Plaines, forêts, rochers, vallons, fleuve argenté,
Voyant ma petitesse et voyant vos miracles,
Je reprends ma raison devant l'immensité ;

Je viens à vous, Seigneur, père auquel il faut croire ;
Je vous porte, apaisé,
Les morceaux de ce cœur tout plein de votre gloire
Que vous avez brisé ;

Je viens à vous, Seigneur ! confessant que vous êtes
Bon, clément, indulgent et doux, ô Dieu vivant !
Je conviens que vous seul savez ce que vous faites,
Et que l'homme n'est rien qu'un jonc qui tremble au vent ;

Je dis que le tombeau qui sur les morts se ferme
Ouvre le firmament ;
Et que ce qu'ici-bas nous prenons pour le terme
Est le commencement ;

Je conviens à genoux que vous seul, père auguste,
Possédez l'infini, le réel, l'absolu ;
Je conviens qu'il est bon, je conviens qu'il est juste
Que mon cœur ait saigné, puisque Dieu l'a voulu !

Je ne résiste plus à tout ce qui m'arrive
Par votre volonté.
L'âme de deuils en deuils, l'homme de rive en rive,
Roule à l'éternité.

[...] Read more

poem by Victor Hugo
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When you are Old

Sonnet XXXII

Should you survive the number of my days,
Attest to buried bones and grounded hope,
Nervous, by chance, perhaps this book you'll ope,
Grave hand re-reading, when fast passed my ways.
Tender friend recall our comet blaze,
Openly with instinct's gyroscope
Mark, nurture, sight and sound, bright chromascope,
Able to distill implicit ph[r]ase.
Methinks fond thoughts might share this paraphrase:
“As rainbow bridge strips off coarse envelope
Underdeveloped were poor poet’s plays -
Death forced him far too early to elope.
E’er since he died, have other poets flourished.
Competent their works, I’ll read his, who love nourished.”

[c] Jonathan Robin

Shakespeare Sonnet XXXII
(cf Ronsard: When you are old and grey)

If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that churl death my bones with dust shall cover,
And shall by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceasèd lover,
Compare them with the bettering of the time,
And though they be outstripp’d by every pen,
Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
Exceeded by the heights of happier men.
O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died, and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.'?

Quand vous serez bien vieille

Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle,
Assise auprès du feu, dévidant et filant,
Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous émerveillant:
'Ronsard me célébrait du temps que j'étais belle.'

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Lady Marmalade

Lil' Kim:
HEY SISTERS
soul sistas?
Lemme hear ya flow sistas
Pink and Christina:
Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister
Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister
Mya:
He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge
Strutting her stuff on the street
She said, hello, hey Joe
You wanna give it a go, oh
All
Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da (hey hey hey)
Gitchi gitchi ya ya hee (hee oh)
Mocca chocolata ya ya (ooh yeah)
Creole Lady Marmalade (ohh)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (oh oh)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Pink:
He sat in her boudoir while she freshened up
Boy drank all that magnolia wine
On her black satin sheets
Is where he started to freak, yeah
Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da (da da yeah)
Gitchi gitchi ya ya hee (ooh yeah yeah)
Mocca chocolata ya ya
Creole Lady Marmalade, uh
Chorus
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ooh)
Lil' Kim:
Yeah, yeah, aw
We come through with the money and the garter belts
Let 'em know we 'bout that cake, straight out the gate
We independent women, some mistake us for whores
I'm saying, why spend mine when I can spend yours?
Disagree? Well that's you and I'm sorry
I'ma keep playing these cats out like Atari
Wear high heeled shoes, get love from the Dudes
Four bad ass chicks from the Moulin Rouge
Hey sistas, soul sistas
BETTER get that dough sistas
We drink wine with diamonds in the glass
By the case, the meaning of expensive taste
We wanna gitchi gitchi ya ya (come on)
Mocca chocolata (what)
Creole Lady Marmalade
(One more time, come on)
Marmalade (ooh)

[...] Read more

song performed by Pink
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Lay of Poor Louise

Ah, poor Louise! the livelong day
She roams from cot to castle gay;
And still her voice and viol say,
Ah, maids, beware the woodland way,
Think on Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! The sun was high,
It smirch'd her cheek, it dimm'd her eye,
The woodland walk was cool and nigh,
Where birds with chiming streamlets vie
To cheer Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! The savage bear
Made ne'er that lovely grove his lair;
The wolves molest not paths so fair-
But better far had such been there
For poor Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! In woody wold
She met a huntsman fair and bold;
His baldric was of silk and gold,
And many a witching tale he told
To poor Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! Small cause to pine
Hadst thou for treasures of the mine;
For peace of mind that gift divine,
And spotless innocence, were thine,
Ah, poor Louise!

Ah, poor Louise! Thy treasure's reft!
I know not if by force or theft,
Or part by violence, part by gift;
But misery is all that's left
To poor Louise.

Let poor Louise some succour have!
She will not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stave-
For Heaven has grace, and earth a grave,
Poor poor Louise.

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Maybe My Baby

(eric carmen)
Maybe my babys got a new man
Who can take her where she wants to go
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know
I call her on the telephone
But shes never where shes supposed to be
Lately when were all alone
Well it seems she dont want any part of me
Dont you know Im gonna lose my mind
If theres someone else after all this time
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new man
Who can take her where she wants to go
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know
(well somethin tells me)
Maybe my babys got a new guy
And hes really puttin on a show
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know
I cant believe its come to this
But my heart keeps tellin me theres somethin wrong
I feel the difference in her kiss
I wanna know what Ill do when shes really gone
Well, dont you know Im gonna lose my mind
If theres someone else after all this time
(I keep thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new man
Who can take her where she wants to go
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know
(well somethin tells me)
Maybe my babys got a new guy
And hes really puttin on a show
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know
I cant seem to pin her down
Friends tell me all Im getting is the runaround
Im sitting home and its saturday night
Is she moving in with someone else tonight
Maybe my babys got a new man
Who can take her where she wants to go
(Im thinking)
Maybe my babys got a new lover
And Im not supposed to know

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song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Athena

Athena, I had no idea how much Id need her
Athena, I had no idea how much Id need her
In peaceful times I hold her close and I feed her
In peaceful times I hold her close and I feed her
My heart starts palpitating when I think my guess was wrong
My heart starts palpitating when I think my guess was wrong
But I think Ill get along
But I think Ill get along
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Athena, all I ever want to do is please her
Athena, all I ever want to do is please her
My life has been so settled and shes the reason
My life has been so settled and shes the reason
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
But I think Ill get along
But I think Ill get along
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Shes just a girl
Shes just a girl
Athena, my heart felt like a shattered glass in an acid bath
Athena, my heart felt like a shattered glass in an acid bath
I felt like one of those flattened ants you find on a crazy path
I felt like one of those flattened ants you find on a crazy path
Id of topped myself to give her time she didnt need to ask
Id of topped myself to give her time she didnt need to ask
Was I a suicidal psychopath?
Was I a suicidal psychopath?
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Consumed, there was a beautiful white horse I saw on a dream stage
Consumed, there was a beautiful white horse I saw on a dream stage
He had a snake the size of a sewer pipe living in his rib cage
He had a snake the size of a sewer pipe living in his rib cage
I felt like a pickled priest who was being flambed
I felt like a pickled priest who was being flambed
You were requisitioned blondie
You were requisitioned blondie
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Im happy, Im ecstatic
Im happy, Im ecstatic

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song performed by Who
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

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poem by Tom Zart
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Salut Au Monde

O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
Each answering all--each sharing the earth with all.

What widens within you, Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons and lands are here?
Who are the infants? some playing, some slumbering?
Who are the girls? who are the married women?
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms about each
other's necks?
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?
What are the mountains call'd that rise so high in the mists?
What myriads of dwellings are they, fill'd with dwellers?

Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens;
Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east--America is provided for in the
west;
Banding the bulge of the earth winds the hot equator,
Curiously north and south turn the axis-ends;
Within me is the longest day--the sun wheels in slanting rings--it
does not set for months;
Stretch'd in due time within me the midnight sun just rises above the
horizon, and sinks again;
Within me zones, seas, cataracts, plants, volcanoes, groups,
Malaysia, Polynesia, and the great West Indian islands.

What do you hear, Walt Whitman?

I hear the workman singing, and the farmer's wife singing;
I hear in the distance the sounds of children, and of animals early
in the day;
I hear quick rifle-cracks from the riflemen of East Tennessee and
Kentucky, hunting on hills;
I hear emulous shouts of Australians, pursuing the wild horse;
I hear the Spanish dance, with castanets, in the chestnut shade, to
the rebeck and guitar;
I hear continual echoes from the Thames;
I hear fierce French liberty songs;
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative of old
poems;
I hear the Virginia plantation-chorus of negroes, of a harvest night,
in the glare of pine-knots;
I hear the strong baritone of the 'long-shore-men of Mannahatta;
I hear the stevedores unlading the cargoes, and singing;
I hear the screams of the water-fowl of solitary north-west lakes;
I hear the rustling pattering of locusts, as they strike the grain
and grass with the showers of their terrible clouds;
I hear the Coptic refrain, toward sundown, pensively falling on the

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poem by Walt Whitman
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A propos d'Horace

Marchands de grec ! marchands de latin ! cuistres ! dogues!
Philistins ! magisters ! je vous hais, pédagogues !
Car, dans votre aplomb grave, infaillible, hébété,
Vous niez l'idéal, la grâce et la beauté !
Car vos textes, vos lois, vos règles sont fossiles !
Car, avec l'air profond, vous êtes imbéciles !
Car vous enseignez tout, et vous ignorez tout !
Car vous êtes mauvais et méchants ! -- Mon sang bout
Rien qu'à songer au temps où, rêveuse bourrique,
Grand diable de seize ans, j'étais en rhétorique !
Que d'ennuis ! de fureurs ! de bêtises ! -- gredins ! --
Que de froids châtiments et que de chocs soudains !
«Dimanche en retenue et cinq cents vers d'Horace !»
Je regardais le monstre aux ongles noirs de crasse,
Et je balbutiais : «Monsieur... -- Pas de raisons !
Vingt fois l'ode à Panclus et l'épître aux Pisons !»
Or j'avais justement, ce jour là, -- douce idée
Qui me faisait rêver d'Armide et d'Haydée, --
Un rendez-vous avec la fille du portier.
Grand Dieu ! perdre un tel jour ! le perdre tout entier !
Je devais, en parlant d'amour, extase pure !
En l'enivrant avec le ciel et la nature,
La mener, si le temps n'était pas trop mauvais,
Manger de la galette aux buttes Saint-Gervais !
Rêve heureux ! je voyais, dans ma colère bleue,
Tout cet Éden, congé, les lilas, la banlieue,
Et j'entendais, parmi le thym et le muguet,
Les vagues violons de la mère Saguet !
O douleur ! furieux, je montais à ma chambre,
Fournaise au mois de juin, et glacière en décembre ;
Et, là, je m'écriais :

-- Horace ! ô bon garçon !
Qui vivais dans le calme et selon la raison,
Et qui t'allais poser, dans ta sagesse franche,
Sur tout, comme l'oiseau se pose sur la branche,
Sans peser, sans rester, ne demandant aux dieux
Que le temps de chanter ton chant libre et joyeux !
Tu marchais, écoutant le soir, sous les charmilles,
Les rires étouffés des folles jeunes filles,
Les doux chuchotements dans l'angle obscur du bois ;
Tu courtisais ta belle esclave quelquefois,
Myrtale aux blonds cheveux, qui s'irrite et se cabre
Comme la mer creusant les golfes de Calabre,
Ou bien tu t'accoudais à la table, buvant sec
Ton vin que tu mettais toi-même en un pot grec.
Pégase te soufflait des vers de sa narine ;
Tu songeais; tu faisais des odes à Barine,
A Mécène, à Virgile, à ton champ de Tibur,
A Chloë, qui passait le long de ton vieux mur,

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poem by Victor Hugo
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Girls & Boys

Girls and boys!
He only knew her 4 a little while,
But he had grown accustomed 2 her style
She had the cutest ass hed ever seen
He did 2, they were meant 2 be
They loved 2 kiss on the steps of versailles
It looked like rain, mama, birds do fly
I love u baby, I love u so much,
Maybe we can stay in touch
Meet me in another world, space and joy,
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
He gave her all the love that anyone can,
But she was promised 2 another man
He tried so hard not 2 go insane
Birds do fly, looks like rain
I love u baby, I love u so much,
Maybe we can stay in touch
Meet me in another world, space and joy,
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Life is precious baby, love is so rare
I can take the breakup if u say that u care
He had 2 run away, his pride was 2 strong
It started raining, baby, the birds were gone
(I love u baby, I love u so much)
Maybe (maybe we can stay in touch)
Meet me in another world (meet me in another world, space and joy)
Vous etes tres belle (vous etes tres belle, mama)
Girls and boys (girls and boys)
(I love u baby, I love u so much)
I want u, babe (maybe we can stay in touch)
Maybe we can play today (meet me in another world, space and joy)
Vous etes tres belle (vous etes tres belle, mama)
Girls and boys (girls and boys)
{translation in brackets}
Vous etiez de lautre cote de la salle
{u were on the other end of the room/hall}
Vous dansiez si fort
{u were dancing so hard/strong}
Je sentais votre parfum
{i could smell your perfume}
Votre sourire me dit que nous devrions nous parler
{your smile told me we should talk}
Sexe et repos
{sex and rest}
Baby
Je sais que vous aimerez ca
{i know ull like that}
Vous ny resisterez pas
{u wont resist it/to it}
Baby

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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A mademoiselle Louise B.

Ô vous l'âme profonde ! ô vous la sainte lyre !
Vous souvient-il des temps d'extase et de délire,
Et des jeux triomphants,
Et du soir qui tombait des collines prochaines ?
Vous souvient-il des jours ? Vous souvient-il des chênes
Et des petits enfants ?

Et vous rappelez-vous les amis, et la table,
Et le rire éclatant du père respectable,
Et nos cris querelleurs,
Le pré, l'étang, la barque, et la lune, et la brise,
Et les chants qui sortaient de votre coeur, Louise,
En attendant les pleurs !

Le parc avait des fleurs et n'avait pas de marbres.
Oh ! comme il était beau, le vieillard, sous les arbres !
Je le voyais parfois
Dès l'aube sur un banc s'asseoir tenant un livre ;
Je sentais, j'entendais l'ombre autour de lui vivre
Et chanter dans les bois !

Il lisait, puis dormait au baiser de l'aurore ;
Et je le regardais dormir, plus calme encore
Que ce paisible lieu,
Avec son front serein d'où sortait une flamme,
Son livre ouvert devant le soleil, et son âme
Ouverte devant Dieu !

Et du fond de leur nid, sous l'orme et sous l'érable,
Les oiseaux admiraient sa tête vénérable,
Et, gais chanteurs tremblants,
Ils guettaient, s'approchaient et souhaitaient dans l'ombre
D'avoir, pour augmenter la douceur du nid sombre,
Un de ses cheveux blancs !

Puis il se réveillait, s'en allait vers la grille,
S'arrêtait pour parler à ma petite fille,
Et ces temps sont passés !
Le vieillard et l'enfant jasaient de mille choses...
Vous ne voyiez donc pas ces deux êtres, ô roses,
Que vous refleurissez !

Avez-vous bien le coeur, ô roses, de renaître
Dans le même bosquet, sous la même fenêtre ?
Où sont-ils, ces fronts purs ?
N'étaient-ce pas vos soeurs, ces deux âmes perdues
Qui vivaient, et se sont si vite confondues
Aux éternels azurs ?

Est-ce que leur sourire, est-ce que leurs paroles,

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poem by Victor Hugo
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A Petite Jeanne

Vous eûtes donc hier un an, ma bien-aimée.
Contente, vous jasez, comme, sous la ramée,
Au fond du nid plus tiède ouvrant de vagues yeux,
Les oiseaux nouveau-nés gazouillent, tout joyeux
De sentir qu'il commence à leur pousser des plumes.
Jeanne, ta bouche est rose ; et dans les gros volumes
Dont les images font ta joie, et que je dois,
Pour te plaire, laisser chiffonner par tes doigts,
On trouve de beaux vers ; mais pas un qui te vaille
Quand tout ton petit corps en me voyant tressaille ;
Les plus fameux auteurs n'ont rien écrit de mieux
Que la pensée éclose à demi dans tes yeux,
Et que ta rêverie obscure, éparse, étrange,
Regardant l'homme avec l'ignorance de l'ange.
Jeanne, Dieu n'est pas loin puisque vous êtes là.

Ah ! vous avez un an, c'est un âge cela !
Vous êtes par moments grave, quoique ravie ;
Vous êtes à l'instant céleste de la vie
Où l'homme n'a pas d'ombre, où dans ses bras ouverts,
Quand il tient ses parents, l'enfant tient l'univers ;
Votre jeune âme vit, songe, rit, pleure, espère
D'Alice votre mère à Charles votre père ;
Tout l'horizon que peut contenir votre esprit
Va d'elle qui vous berce à lui qui vous sourit ;
Ces deux êtres pour vous à cette heure première
Sont toute la caresse et toute la lumière ;
Eux deux, eux seuls, ô Jeanne ; et c'est juste ; et je suis,
Et j'existe, humble aïeul, parce que je vous suis ;
Et vous venez, et moi je m'en vais ; et j'adore,
N'ayant droit qu'à la nuit, votre droit à l'aurore.
Votre blond frère George et vous, vous suffisez
A mon âme, et je vois vos jeux, et c'est assez ;
Et je ne veux, après mes épreuves sans nombre,
Qu'un tombeau sur lequel se découpera l'ombre
De vos berceaux dorés par le soleil levant.

Ah ! nouvelle venue innocente, et rêvant,
Vous avez pris pour naître une heure singulière ;
Vous êtes, Jeanne, avec les terreurs familière ;
Vous souriez devant tout un monde aux abois ;
Vous faites votre bruit d'abeille dans les bois,
Ô Jeanne, et vous mêlez votre charmant murmure
Au grand Paris faisant sonner sa grande armure.
Ah ! quand je vous entends, Jeanne, et quand je vous vois
Chanter, et, me parlant avec votre humble voix,
Tendre vos douces mains au-dessus de nos têtes,
Il me semble que l'ombre où grondent les tempêtes
Tremble et s'éloigne avec des rugissements sourds,
Et que Dieu fait donner à la ville aux cent tours

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poem by Victor Hugo
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