Irishmen are not reserved, and the company appeared dying to be intimately acquainted.
quote by William Hamilton Maxwell
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The Shepherd's Dog
I.
A Shepherd's Dog there was; and he
Was faithful to his master's will,
For well he lov'd his company,
Along the plain or up the hill;
All Seasons were, to him, the same
Beneath the Sun's meridian flame;
Or, when the wintry wind blew shrill and keen,
Still the Old Shepherd's Dog, was with his Master seen.
II.
His form was shaggy clothed; yet he
Was of a bold and faithful breed;
And kept his master company
In smiling days, and days of need;
When the long Ev'ning slowly clos'd,
When ev'ry living thing repos'd,
When e'en the breeze slept on the woodlands round,
The Shepherd's watchful Dog, was ever waking found.
III.
All night, upon the cold turf he
Contented lay, with list'ning care;
And though no stranger company,
Or lonely traveller rested there;
Old Trim was pleas'd to guard it still,
For 'twas his aged master's will;--
And so pass'd on the chearful night and day,
'Till the poor Shepherd's Dog, was very old, and grey.
IV.
Among the villagers was he
Belov'd by all the young and old,
For he was chearful company,
When the north-wind blew keen and cold;
And when the cottage scarce was warm,
While round it flew, the midnight storm,
When loudly, fiercely roll'd the swelling tide--
The Shepherd's faithful Dog, crept closely by his side.
V.
When Spring in gaudy dress would be,
[...] Read more
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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- quotes about sheep
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- quotes about elders
- quotes about time
- quotes about fate
- quotes about worry
- quotes about friendship
- quotes about Sun
- quotes about sadness
Then She Appeared
Then she appeared, apple venus on a half open shell
Then she appeared, the first photograph on fox talbots gel
I was a little frightened
Flying with my senses heightened
Cherubim cheered
When she appeared
Then she appeared, as the giggling crew of marie celeste
Then she appeared, pale atlantis rising out of the west
I was a little dazzled
Catherine wheeled and senses frazzled
Know it sounds weird
Then she appeared
And the sun which formerly shone
In the clearest summer sky
Suddenly just changed address
Now shines from her blue eyes
Then she appeared, brittle shooting star that dropped in my lap
Then she appeared, dressed in tricolour and phrygian cap
I was a little troubled
Hookah with my senses bubbled
All edward leared
Then she appeared
And the moon which formerly shone
On the marbled midnight mile
Suddenly just packed its bags
Now shines from her bright smile
Then she appeared
Out of nowhere
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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- quotes about photography
- quotes about Venus
- quotes about apples
- quotes about flying
- quotes about sound
- quotes about summer
- quotes about Moon
- quotes about blue
- quotes about sky
Then She Appeared
Then she appeared, apple venus on a half open shell
Then she appeared, the first photograph on fox talbots gel
I was a little frightened
Flying with my senses heightened
Cherubim cheered
When she appeared
Then she appeared, as the giggling crew of marie celeste
Then she appeared, pale atlantis rising out of the west
I was a little dazzled
Catherine wheeled and senses frazzled
Know it sounds weird
Then she appeared
And the sun which formerly shone
In the clearest summer sky
Suddenly just changed address
Now shines from her blue eyes
Then she appeared, brittle shooting star that dropped in my lap
Then she appeared, dressed in tricolour and phrygian cap
I was a little troubled
Hookah with my senses bubbled
All edward leared
Then she appeared
And the moon which formerly shone
On the marbled midnight mile
Suddenly just packed its bags
Now shines from her bright smile
Then she appeared
Out of nowhere
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dying
I'm Dying, Dying to wake up without you, without you in my head again
I'm Dying, Dying to forget about you, that you ever lived
There's a shade come over this heart that's coping with laying down to rest
I'm Dying to live without you again
I'm Dying, Dying to find a distraction, get you away from me
I'm Dying, Dying to reach a conclusion, so that the world can see
It's the same old story of love and glory that broke before it bent
I'm Dying to live without you again
The first time you left I said goodbye
Now there's not a prayer that can survive
Dying, Dying to die just to come back so we can meet again
Dying, Dying to say what I always should have said
It's a strange emotion this but there's still hope in this
As long as there's a breath...
I'm Dying and I can't live without you again
It's a strange emotion this but there's still hope in this
As long as there's a breath...
I'm Dying and I can't live without you
I'm Dying and I can't live without you again
song performed by Five For Fighting
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Apple Of Sodom
I found the center of fruit is late
It is the center of truth today
I cut the apple in two
Oh, I pray it isnt true
I found the center of fruit is late
It is the center of truth today
I cut the apple in two
Oh, I pray it isnt true
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive drained my heart, I burn my soul
Ive trained the core to stop my growth
I pray to die in space
To cover me in snow
To cover me in snow
Cover me in snow
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Im dying, I hope youre dying too
Take this from me (hate me, hate me)
Take this from me (hate me, hate me)
One, two, three, he is a speed bump mannequin
One, two, three, he cant move to stand still
One, two, three, he is a speed bump mannequin
One, two, three, he cant move to stand still
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat
Ive got something you can never eat...
song performed by Marilyn Manson
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The Flower And The Leaf
When that Phebus his chaire of gold so hy
Had whirled up the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Bole was entred certainly;
Whan shoures swete of rain discended soft,
Causing the ground, felë tymes and oft,
Up for to give many an hoolsom air,
And every plain was [eek y-]clothed fair
With newe grene, and maketh smalë floures
To springen here and there in feld and mede;
So very good and hoolsom be the shoures
That it reneweth, that was old and deede
In winter-tyme; and out of every seede
Springeth the herbë, so that every wight
Of this sesoun wexeth [ful] glad and light.
And I, só glad of the seson swete,
Was happed thus upon a certain night;
As I lay in my bed, sleep ful unmete
Was unto me; but, why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist; for there nas erthly wight,
As I suppose, had more hertës ese
Than I, for I n'ad siknesse nor disese.
Wherfore I mervail gretly of my-selve,
That I so long, withouten sleepë lay;
And up I roos, three houres after twelve,
About the [very] springing of the day,
And on I put my gere and myn array;
And to a plesaunt grovë I gan passe,
Long or the brightë sonne uprisen was,
In which were okës grete, streight as a lyne,
Under the which the gras, so fresh of hew,
Was newly spronge; and an eight foot or nyne
Every tree wel fro his felawe grew,
With braunches brode, laden with leves new,
That sprongen out ayein the sonnë shene,
Som very rede, and som a glad light grene;
Which, as me thought, was right a plesaunt sight.
And eek the briddes song[ës] for to here
Would have rejoised any erthly wight.
And I, that couth not yet, in no manere,
Here the nightingale of al the yere,
Ful busily herkned, with herte and ere,
If I her voice perceive coud any-where.
And at the last, a path of litel brede
I found, that gretly had not used be,
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Breaking point
Sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest
then I am simultaneously both scared and happy,
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest,
when you linger with me without words,
sometimes then our love is pure
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest,
when you linger with me without words
and you wait that I tell you about my day,
about the glory and hell of work,
when you linger with me without words,
and you wait that I tell you about my day;
when I rather want to know more about you,
when I want to forget the rush, the distress
and you wait that I tell you about my day,
when I rather want to know more about you,
when a moment comes to a breaking point,
then sometimes I am surprised by your beauty,
when I rather want to know more about you,
when a moment comes to a breaking point,
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when we both remove our own masks,
when a moment comes to a breaking point;
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest
then I am simultaneously both scared and happy,
sometimes mere moments do linger.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Witch of Hebron
A Rabbinical Legend
Part I.
From morn until the setting of the sun
The rabbi Joseph on his knees had prayed,
And, as he rose with spirit meek and strong,
An Indian page his presence sought, and bowed
Before him, saying that a lady lay
Sick unto death, tormented grievously,
Who begged the comfort of his holy prayers.
The rabbi, ever to the call of grief
Open as day, arose; and girding straight
His robe about him, with the page went forth;
Who swiftly led him deep into the woods
That hung, heap over heap, like broken clouds
On Hebron’s southern terraces; when lo!
Across a glade a stately pile he saw,
With gleaming front, and many-pillared porch
Fretted with sculptured vinage, flowers and fruit,
And carven figures wrought with wondrous art
As by some Phidian hand.
But interposed
For a wide space in front, and belting all
The splendid structure with a finer grace,
A glowing garden smiled; its breezes bore
Airs as from paradise, so rich the scent
That breathed from shrubs and flowers; and fair the growths
Of higher verdure, gemm’d with silver blooms,
Which glassed themselves in fountains gleaming light
Each like a shield of pearl.
Within the halls
Strange splendour met the rabbi’s careless eyes,
Halls wonderful in their magnificance,
With pictured walls, and columns gleaming white
Like Carmel’s snow, or blue-veined as with life;
Through corridors he passed with tissues hung
Inwrought with threaded gold by Sidon’s art,
Or rich as sunset clouds with Tyrian dye;
Past lofty chambers, where the gorgeous gleam
Of jewels, and the stainèd radiance
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Harpur
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The Amorous Courtesan
DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour,
In ev'ry age works miracles a store;
Can Catos change to male coquets at ease;
And fools make oracles whene'er he please;
Turn wolves to sheep, and ev'ry thing so well,
That naught remains the former shape to tell:
Remember, Hercules, with wond'rous pow'r,
And Polyphemus, who would men devour:
The one upon a rock himself would fling,
And to the winds his am'rous ditties sing;
To cut his beard a nymph could him inspire;
And, in the water, he'd his face admire.
His club the other to a spindle changed,
To please the belle with whom he often ranged.
A hundred instances the fact attest,
But sage Boccace has one, it is confessed,
Which seems to me, howe'er we search around,
To be a sample, rarely to be found.
'Tis Chimon that I mean, a savage youth,
Well formed in person, but the rest uncouth,
A bear in mind, but Cupid much can do,
LOVE licked the cub, and decent soon he grew.
A fine gallant at length the lad appeared;
From whence the change?--Fine eyes his bosom cheered
The piercing rays no sooner reached his sight,
But all the savage took at once to flight;
He felt the tender flame; polite became;
You'll find howe'er, our tale is not the same.
I MEAN to state how once an easy fair,
Who oft amused the youth devoid of care,
A tender flame within her heart retained,
Though haughty, singular, and unrestrained.
Not easy 'twas her favours to procure;
Rome was the place where dwelled this belle impure;
The mitre and the cross with her were naught;
Though at her feet, she'd give them not a thought;
And those who were not of the highest class,
No moments were allowed with her to pass.
A member of the conclave, first in rank,
To be her slave, she'd scarcely deign to thank;
Unless a cardinal's gay nephew came,
And then, perhaps, she'd listen to his flame;
The pope himself, had he perceived her charms,
Would not have been too good to grace her arms.
Her pride appeared in clothes as well as air,
And on her sparkled gold and jewels rare;
In all the elegance of dress arrayed,
Embroidery and lace, her taste displayed.
[...] Read more
poem by La Fontaine
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Dying
Dying
Youve seen the crippled dance
Give me your money baby, nows your chance
Your lies like cyanide
I am so dumb
Just beam me up
Ive had it all forever
Ive had enough
Remember, you promised me...
Im dying, Im dying please
I want to, I need to be...
Under your skin
Our love is quicksand, so easy to drown
They steal the gravity out from moving ground
Remember, you promised me...
Im dying, Im dying please
I want to I need to be...
Under your skin
And now I understand
You leave with everything
You leave with everything I am
In the rain
And I now I know that love is dead
You come to bury me
Theres nothing left here to pretend..
Remember you promised me...
Im dying, Im dying please
I want to, I need to be...
Under your skin
Im dying Im dying please
Im dying Im dying please
Im dying Im dying please
Under your skin
Under your skin
song performed by Hole
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Acquainted with the Night
shut your eyes and dream
for that is where paradise is
the world is not
as good as a dream, daylight
at least for many
you see them
all over the morning papers
crimes that came out
of the nights
the husband who
in his rage
against a runaway wife
hanged all three children
and himself
terrorising readers
a wayward son
that beat mom to death
for a little money
to spend at the club
the old spinster
who fell to her death
as the snatch thief
used all his might
for her bag
the court trial
of a murdered woman
that heard of sperm stains
on ceiling
and a deputy prime minister
who allegedly groped with men
a whole mattress taken
to examine for lascivious stains
an artist former husband
who spewed terrible secrets
about wife that
ran away with a musician
carrying her children along with her
never allowing him to see his hearts
in three long years
or the shark money loaner
who forced weedkiller
down his debtor throat
a national top school achiever
denied entry to university
all because of her wrong race
i have been one acquainted
with the night
and as i walked down
the town alleyway
i cross path with
[...] Read more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Mail-Box
As you arrive in the morning
To your office, my dear
And check your mails
Without doubt you know
I’ll be there for you
Waiting to give you
The mail of the day.
May be a poem
Or a prose -
A quote or a photo
That touches me…
And I would wish to
Share with you.
Or as ever before
Like I write everyday
My Diary of yesterday.
You may read in a hurry
As you always do
For you may have
Many other
Errands to run to.
Yet, my dear
Let me say it to you
That all my letters
And words to you
Are written with care
And the precious time
That I love to spend
Writing to you…
It’s been like this
For the past many years
And I hope it would be
For many, many years
When you open your
Mail-Box
And find in it
Amongst all your mails
A letter from me.
Everyday, every morning
For all those years
Till the day you retire
From your daily
Commuting…
To that very same Office
Of your 20 years.
[...] Read more
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Peter Bell, A Tale
PROLOGUE
There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon;
But through the clouds I'll never float
Until I have a little Boat,
Shaped like the crescent-moon.
And now I 'have' a little Boat,
In shape a very crescent-moon
Fast through the clouds my boat can sail;
But if perchance your faith should fail,
Look up--and you shall see me soon!
The woods, my Friends, are round you roaring,
Rocking and roaring like a sea;
The noise of danger's in your ears,
And ye have all a thousand fears
Both for my little Boat and me!
Meanwhile untroubled I admire
The pointed horns of my canoe;
And, did not pity touch my breast,
To see how ye are all distrest,
Till my ribs ached, I'd laugh at you!
Away we go, my Boat and I--
Frail man ne'er sate in such another;
Whether among the winds we strive,
Or deep into the clouds we dive,
Each is contented with the other.
Away we go--and what care we
For treasons, tumults, and for wars?
We are as calm in our delight
As is the crescent-moon so bright
Among the scattered stars.
Up goes my Boat among the stars
Through many a breathless field of light,
Through many a long blue field of ether,
Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her:
Up goes my little Boat so bright!
The Crab, the Scorpion, and the Bull--
We pry among them all; have shot
High o'er the red-haired race of Mars,
Covered from top to toe with scars;
Such company I like it not!
[...] Read more
poem by William Wordsworth
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Wandering Star
Please could you stay awhile to share my grief
For its such a lovely day
To have to always feel this way
And the time that I will suffer less
Is when I never have to wake
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
... those who have seen the needles eye, now tread
Like a husk, from which all that was, now has fled
And the masks, that the monsters wear
To feed, upon their prey
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
(always) doubled up inside
Take awhile to shed my grief
(always) doubled up inside
Taunted, cruel.... ...
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever
song performed by Portishead
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Easter Week
1 "Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
2 It's with O'Leary in the grave."
3 Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawn
4 A hue so radiantly brave?
5 There was a rain of blood that day,
6 Red rain in gay blue April weather.
7 It blessed the earth till it gave birth
8 To valour thick as blooms of heather.
9 Romantic Ireland never dies!
10 O'Leary lies in fertile ground,
11 And songs and spears throughout the years
12 Rise up where patriot graves are found.
13 Immortal patriots newly dead
14 And ye that bled in bygone years,
15 What banners rise before your eyes?
16 What is the tune that greets your ears?
17 The young Republic's banners smile
18 For many a mile where troops convene.
19 O'Connell street is loudly sweet
20 With strains of Wearing of the Green.
21 The soil of Ireland throbs and glows
22 With life that knows the hour is here
23 To strike again like Irishmen
24 For that which Irishmen hold dear.
25 Lord Edward leaves his resting place
26 And Sarsfield's face is glad and fierce.
27 See Emmet leap from troubled sleep
28 To grasp the hand of Padraic Pearse!
29 There is no rope can strangle song
30 And not for long death takes his toll.
31 No prison bars can dim the stars
32 Nor quicklime eat the living soul.
33 Romantic Ireland is not old.
34 For years untold her youth shall shine.
35 Her heart is fed on Heavenly bread,
36 The blood of martyrs is her wine.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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The Princess Betrothed To The King Of Garba
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told
Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold;
In stories we invention may admit;
But diff'rent 'tis with what historick writ;
Posterity demands that truth should then
Inspire relation, and direct the pen.
ALACIEL'S story's of another kind,
And I've a little altered it, you'll find;
Faults some may see, and others disbelieve;
'Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve;
Alaciel's mem'ry, it is very clear,
Can scarcely by it lose; there's naught to fear.
Two facts important I have kept in view,
In which the author fully I pursue;
The one--no less than eight the belle possessed,
Before a husband's sight her eyes had blessed;
The other is, the prince she was to wed
Ne'er seemed to heed this trespass on his bed,
But thought, perhaps, the beauty she had got
Would prove to any one a happy lot.
HOWE'ER this fair, amid adventures dire,
More sufferings shared than malice could desire;
Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight
No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight;
'Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will;
The dread of worse;--she'd truly had her fill;
Excuses just, to vindicate her fame,
Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch's flame:
Of eight the relict, still a maid received ;--
Apparently, the prince her pure believed;
For, though at times we may be duped in this,
Yet, after such a number--strange to miss!
And I submit to those who've passed the scene,
If they, to my opinion, do not lean.
THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named,
A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed,
A star divine Alaciel shone around,
The charms of beauty's queen were in her found;
With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind,
And all-accomplished, all-complying mind.
THE, rumour of her worth spread far and wide,
The king of Garba asked her for his bride,
And Mamolin (the sov'reign of the spot,)
To other princes had a pref'rence got.
THE fair, howe'er, already felt the smart
[...] Read more
poem by La Fontaine
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Orlando Furioso Canto 16
ARGUMENT
Gryphon finds traitorous Origilla nigh
Damascus city, with Martano vile.
Slaughtered the Saracens and Christians lie
By thousands and by thousands heaped this while;
And if the Moor outside of Paris die,
Within the Sarzan so destroys each pile,
Such slaughter deals, that greater ill than this
Never before has been exprest, I wiss.
I
Love's penalties are manifold and dread:
Of which I have endured the greater part,
And, to my cost, in these so well am read,
That I can speak of them as 'twere my art.
Hence if I say, or if I ever said,
(Did speech or living page my thoughts impart)
'One ill is grievous and another light.'
Yield me belief, and deem my judgment right.
II
I say, I said, and, while I live, will say,
'He, who is fettered by a worthy chain,
Though his desire his lady should gainsay,
And, every way averse, his suit disdain;
Though Love deprive him of all praised pay,
After long time and trouble spent in vain,
He, if his heart be placed well worthily,
Needs not lament though he should waste and die.'
III
Let him lament, who plays a slavish part,
Whom two bright eyes and lovely tresses please:
Beneath which beauties lurks a wanton heart
With little that is pure, and much of lees.
The wretch would fly; but bears in him a dart,
Like wounded stag, whichever way he flees;
Dares not confess, yet cannot quench, his flame,
And of himself and worthless love has shame.
IV
The youthful Gryphon finds him in this case,
Who sees the error which he cannot right;
He sees how vilely he his heart does place
On faithless Origille, his vain delight:
Yet evil use doth sovereign reason chase,
And free will is subdued by appetite.
Though a foul mind the lady's actions speak,
Her, wheresoe'er she is, must Gryphon seek.
[...] Read more
poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Cold Calling
My day started off well, but very rapidly began to turn sour,
When a company ‘cold-called’ five times in the space of an hour.
With their business practice, I was extremely far from impressed,
And their persistent calling soon began to cause me much stress.
The Asian sounding gentleman at the other end of the phone,
Politely introduced himself as somebody called Geoffrey Jones.
Whenever the phone rang after that, it, I would purposely ignore,
Worried that it was the same company calling me again once more.
They said my credit limit on my card had been raised,
But by this claim, I felt unsure and really rather phased.
So I checked my last statement and as far as I could tell,
Everything seemed in order and everything seemed well.
The man told me I was due three thousand pounds compensation.
I felt rather surprised and confused by this baffling information.
Part of me wondered if someone at my bank had made a mistake,
While part of me thought that this company probably was a fake.
When the man rang me back again, I interrupted his rapid flow,
And asked him, under which trading name his company goes.
So I typed in the company's name and looked them up online;
Soon discovering that the problem was far from being only mine!
On forums online, about the company, many people complained,
Saying that they had rung them persistently and they were a pain.
Calls from this company had filled people with worry and fear,
And many people warned other forum members to steer clear.
Cold calling is really annoying and even one phone call is bad enough,
But if they persistently ring you, it’s easy to end up in a right old huff.
The last time they called me, I was angry and, my words, I didn’t mince,
And, fingers crossed, I haven’t heard from that company again since.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage
Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote
And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne
And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght
So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn
Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte
yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Responsibility In The Workforce
What is the work ethic
of Japanese
white-collar employees?
there are three
important components
to the work ethic
loyalty to company
a commitment to quality
peer group bonding
What do the Japanese
feel about their co-workers
and their company?
the Japanese feel
great responsibility
toward company
and co-workers
What moral attitude
are Japanese
employees taught?
Japanese employees
are taught a moral
to work in groups
to think of themselves
as part of a family
What is the Japanese
attitude to failure
in the workforce?
the white-collar executive
is extremely diligent
knowing that failure
or any errors affects
other fellow employees
What is the Japanese
attitude to sharing
profit in the workforce?
all rewards
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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