On Seeing a Pupil of Kung-sun Dance the Chien-ch`i
On the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the second year of Ta-li (15 November 767), in the residence of
Yuan Ch`ih, Lieutenant-Governor of K`uei-chou, I saw Li Shih-er-niang of Lin-ying dance the chien-ch`i.
Impressed by the brilliance and thrust of her style, I asked her whom she had studied under. ``I am a pupil of
Kung-sun'', was the reply.
I remember in the fifth year of K`ai-yuan (717) when I was still a little lad seeing Kung-sun dance the chien-ch`i
and the hun-t`o at Yen-ch`eng. For purity of technique and self-confident attack she was unrivalled in her day.
From the ``royal command performers'' and the ``insiders'' of the Spring Garden and Pear Garden schools in the
palace down to the ``official call'' dancers outside, there was no one during the early years of His Sagely Pacific
and Divinely Martial Majesty who understood this dance as she did. Where now is that lovely figure in its
gorgeous costume? Now even I am an old, white-haired man; and this pupil of hers is well past her prime.
Having found out about the pupil's antecedents, I now realized that what I had been watching was a faithful
reproduction of the great dancer's interpretation. The train of reflections set off by this discovery so moved me
that I felt inspired to compose a ballad on the chien-ch`i.
Some years ago, Chang Hsu, the great master of the ``grass writing'' style of calligraphy, having several times
seeen Kung-sun dance the West River chien-ch`i at Yeh-hsein, afterwards discovered, to his immense
gratification, that his calligraphy had greatly improved. This gives one some idea of the sort of person Kung-sun
was.
In time past there was a lovely woman called Kung-sun, whose chien-ch`i astonished the whole world. Audiences numerous as
the hills watched awestruck as she danced, and, to their reeling senses, the world seemed to go on rising and falling, long after
she had finished dancing. Her flashing swoop was like the nine suns falling, transfixed by the Mighty Archer's arrows; her
soaring flight like the lords of the sky driving their dragon teams aloft; her advance like the thunder gathering up its dreadful
rage; her stoppings like seas and rivers locked in the cold glint of ice.
The crimson lips, the pearl-encrusted sleeves are now at rest. But in her latter years there had been a pupil to whom she
transmitted the fragrance of her art. And now in the city of the White Emperor the handsome woman from Lin-ying performs
this dance with superb spirit. Her answers to my questions have revealed that there was good reason to admire, my ensuing
reflections fill me with painful emotion.
Of the eight thousand women who served our late Emperor, Kung-sun was from the first the leading performer of the
chien-ch`i. Fifty years have now gone by like a flick of the hand - fifty years in which rebellions and disorders darkened the
royal house. The pupils of the Pear Garden have vanished like the mist. And now here is this dancer, with the cold winter sun
shining on her fading features.
South of the Hill of Golden Grain the boughs of the trees already interlace. On the rocky walls of Ch`u-t`ang the dead grasses
blow forlornly. At the glittering feast the shrill flutes have once more concluded. When pleasure is at its height, sorrow follows.
The moon rises in the east; and I depart, an old man who does not know where he is going, but whose feet, calloused from
much walking in the wild mountains, make him wearier and wearier of the pace.
Related quotes
On Seeing A Pupil Of Kung-sun Dance The Chien-ch`i
On the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the second year of Ta-li (15 November 767), in the residence of Yuan Ch`ih, Lieutenant-Governor of K`uei-chou, I saw Li Shih-er-niang of Lin-ying dance the chien-ch`i.
Impressed by the brilliance and thrust of her style, I asked her whom she had studied under. ``I am a pupil of Kung-sun'', was the reply.
I remember in the fifth year of K`ai-yuan (717) when I was still a little lad seeing Kung-sun dance the chien-ch`i
and the hun-t`o at Yen-ch`eng. For purity of technique and self-confident attack she was unrivaled in her day.
From the ``royal command performers'' and the ``insiders'' of the Spring Garden and Pear Garden schools in the palace down to the ``official call'' dancers outside, there was no one during the early years of His Sagely Pacific and Divinely Martial Majesty who understood this dance as she did. Where now is that lovely figure in its gorgeous costume? Now even I am an old, white-haired man; and this pupil of hers is well past her prime.
Having found out about the pupil's antecedents, I now realized that what I had been watching was a faithful
reproduction of the great dancer's interpretation. The train of reflections set off by this discovery so moved me
that I felt inspired to compose a ballad on the chien-ch`i.
Some years ago, Chang Hsu, the great master of the ``grass writing'' style of calligraphy, having several times
seeen Kung-sun dance the West River chien-ch`i at Yeh-hsein, afterwards discovered, to his immense
gratification, that his calligraphy had greatly improved. This gives one some idea of the sort of person Kung-sun
was.
In time past there was a lovely woman called Kung-sun, whose chien-ch`i astonished the whole world. Audiences numerous as the hills watched awestruck as she danced, and, to their reeling senses, the world seemed to go on rising and falling, long after she had finished dancing. Her flashing swoop was like the nine suns falling, transfixed by the Mighty Archer's arrows; her
soaring flight like the lords of the sky driving their dragon teams aloft; her advance like the thunder gathering up its dreadful rage; her stoppings like seas and rivers locked in the cold glint of ice.
The crimson lips, the pearl-encrusted sleeves are now at rest. But in her latter years there had been a pupil to whom she transmitted the fragrance of her art. And now in the city of the White Emperor the handsome woman from Lin-ying performs this dance with superb spirit. Her answers to my questions have revealed that there was good reason to admire, my ensuing
reflections fill me with painful emotion.
Of the eight thousand women who served our late Emperor, Kung-sun was from the first the leading performer of the chien-ch`i. Fifty years have now gone by like a flick of the hand - fifty years in which rebellions and disorders darkened the royal house. The pupils of the Pear Garden have vanished like the mist. And now here is this dancer, with the cold winter sun
shining on her fading features.
South of the Hill of Golden Grain the boughs of the trees already interlace. On the rocky walls of Ch`u-t`ang the dead grasses blow forlornly. At the glittering feast the shrill flutes have once more concluded. When pleasure is at its height, sorrow follows.
The moon rises in the east; and I depart, an old man who does not know where he is going, but whose feet, calloused from much walking in the wild mountains, make him wearier and wearier of the pace.
Social Netowrking Of Robots
end of world war
end of world war 11
end of world scenarios
end of world thursday prophet
end of world wa rtwo
end of world war 2 france
end of world video
end of world war 1 effects
end of world vision
end of world songs
end of world war 2
end of world war 1
end of world wallpapers
end of world scenerio
end of world time clock
end of wortd
end of world wtf mate youtube
end of world west america
end of world war ii
end of world war iii
end of wrestling match signal
end of worlds
end of worldwar 2
end of world war i
end of world war two
end of wrestling match indicator
end of world war 2 wikipedia
end of world war 21945
end of world war one
end of world wite web
end of worled war 2
end of world wide ii
end of world war 2 info
end of world war two date
end of wow
end of ww 2
end of ww2
end of ww1 treaty of versailles
end of ww1 treaty
end of ww ii
end of ww2 in czechoslovakia
end of ww2 date
end of ww1 ghost photos
end of ww1 treaty of vers
end of ww 1
end of ww2 for japanese americans
end of ww-ii
end of ww2 battleship
end of wrold war 2
end of ww11
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Little Egypt
(words & music by leiber - stoller)
I went and bought myself a ticket and I sat down in the very first row
They pulled the curtain but then when they turned the spotlight way down low
Little egypt came out a-struttin wearin nothin but a button and a bow
Singing, ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying
She had a ruby on her tummy and a diamond big as texas on her toe
She let her hair down and she did the hoochie-coochie real slow
When she did her special number on the zebra skin I thought shed stop the show
Singing, ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying
She did her triple somersault and when she hit the ground
She winked at the audience and then she turned around
She had a picture of a cowboy tatooed on her spine
Said, phoenix, arizona 1949
Yeh, let me tell you people little egypt doesnt dance there anymore
Shes too busy mopping and a-takin care of shopping at the store
cos weve got seven kids and all day long they crawl around the floor
Singing ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying, ying-ying
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Style
(style) style, uh!
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Style, dig it
(style) style, come on
Uh, style
Style is not something that comes in a bottle
Style is more like jackie o. when she was doin aristotle
Style is not a logo that sticks 2 the roof of ones ass
Style is like a second cousin 2 class
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, say what?
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, check it
Style aint sittin court side with the owner of the team
Style is owning the court and charging em all a fee
Style is not lusting after someone because theyre cool
Style is loving yourself til everyone else does 2
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, well well
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style dont get drunk on a saturday night
Try 2 dress up every sunday mornin bright
Style dont get married then break the vow in a year
Style is keepin a promise
Raise your hand yall if u hear me
(style) {x2}
Style is not biting style when u cant find the funk
Style is the face u make on a michael jordon dunk
Style aint the jeep u bought when u know your broke ass got bills
Style is lettin your lover drive while u talk on the phone and chill
U got it! - style
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style is a gold-tooth smile with an attitude
Style is a peaceful wild postin the rude
Style is growing your own food
Style is a non-violent march
Style is an accurate account of whats inside every heart (style)
Style is not a lie
Style is a man that cries
Style is the glow in a pregnant womans eyes
(style) {x4}
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, do that, do that
U got it! - style, got it?
U got it! - style, mad, come on
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Magic Dance
You remind me of the baby
What baby? baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do
Do what? remind me of the baby
I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry
What could I do
My babys love had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try
What could I do
My babys fun had gone
And left my baby blue
Nobody knew
What kind of magic spell to use
Slime and snails
Or puppy dogs tails
Thunder or lightning
Then baby said
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Put that baby spell on me
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that magic jump on me
Slap that baby, make him free
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Dance magic, dance (dance magic, dance)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Jump magic, jump (jump magic, jump)
Put that baby spell on me (ooh)
You remind me of the baby
What baby? the baby with the power
What power? power of voodoo
Who do? you do
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Laking Marikina, Part 2
Isang paraiso no'n ang Ilog Marikina
Daming binubuhay, daming umaasa
Malinis na tubig, siya'ng pinagkukunan,
Inumin sa banga, panligo sa tapayan
Tumana sa baybay, daming binubuhay
Palakaya sa tubig, iba't-iba ang paraan
Sa inyo ko'y babanggitin, anu-ano ang pangalan
BINGWIT
Ang Bingwit ay isang panghuli ng isda
Na may tangkay, pisi, pabigat at taga
Sa Ingles siya ay rod, hook, line and sinker
Bingwit or Fishing Rod, parehong may pain
Pain namin no'n ay hipon at bulate
Sari-saring isda ang nangahuhuli
Biya, hito, kanduli, minsa'y bakule
Bingwit ay di pare-pareho ang gamit
Merong sa tubig lang ay inilalawit
Merong hinihila matapos ihagis
Para ng isda ang pain ay mapansin
Akala niya'y buhay, agad sasagpangin
Ang tawag namin sa ganitong paraan
Ay di namimingwit, kundi nanggagalay
PATUKBA
Patukba ay parang bingwit na maliit
Maikli ang pisi, ang tangkay ay siit
Tangkay ay matulis para maitusok
Pag iniuumang na sa tabi ng ilog
Sa dulo ng tangkay doon nakalawit
Ang pising sa dulo, taga'y nakakabit
Kung ito'y iumang ay sa dakong hapon
Pain ay palaka, kuliglig o suhong
IIwang magdamag hanggang sa umaga
ang oras na dapat sila'y pandawin na
Ang paing sa tubig ay kakawag-kawag
Ng bulig o dalag gustong sinisiyab
Ang aking patukba'y tatlumpu ang bilang
Di marami, di kaunti, lang ay katamtaman
Sa bilang na ito, bawat pag-uumang
Ang dalag kong huli'y naglalaro sa siyam
Ang paing kuliglig saan kinukuha?
Sa ilalim ng yagit sa bukid/tumana
Ang suhong naman ay sa mga putikan
Sa tabi ng ilog, kahit na nga saan
Ang palaka naman ay sa mga lawa, Sa bukid, sa ilog at lugar na basa
KITANG
[...] Read more
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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Canto 13
Kung walked
by the dynastic temple
and into the cedar grove,
and then out by the lower river,
And with him Khieu Tchi
and Tian the low speaking
And "we are unknown," said Kung,
"You will take up charioteering?
"Then you will become known,
"Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery?
"Or the practice of public speaking?"
And Tseu-lou said, "I would put the defences in order,"
And Khieu said, "If I were lord of a province
"I would put it in better order than this is."
And Tchi said, "I would prefer a small mountain temple,
"With order in the observances,
with a suitable performance of the ritual,"
And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute
The low sounds continuing
after his hand left the strings,
And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves,
And he looked after the sound:
"The old swimming hole,
"And the boys flopping off the planks,
"Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins."
And Kung smiled upon all of them equally.
And Thseng-sie desired to know:
"Which had answered correctly?"
And Kung said, "They have all answered correctly,
"That is to say, each in his nature."
And Kung raised his cane against Yuan Jang,
Yuan Jang being his elder,
For Yuan Jang sat by the roadside pretending to
be receiving wisdom.
And Kung said
"You old fool, come out of it,
"Get up and do something useful."
And Kung said
"Respect a child's faculties
"From the moment it inhales the clear air,
"But a man of fifty who knows nothng
Is worthy of no respect."
And "When the prince has gathered about him
"All the savants and artists, his riches will be fully employed."
And Kung said, and wrote on the bo leaves:
If a man have not order within him
He can not spread order about him;
And if a man have not order within him
His family will not act with due order;
And if the prince have not order within him
[...] Read more
poem by Ezra Pound
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Canto XIII: Kung Walked
Kung walked
by the dynastic temple
and into the cedar grove,
and then out by the lower river,
And with him Khieu Tchi
and Tian the low speaking
And ``we are unknown," said Kung,
``You will take up charioteering?
``Then you will become known,
``Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery?
``Or the practice of public speaking?''
And Tseu-lou said, ``I would put the defences in order,''
And Khieu said, ``If I were lord of a province
``I would put it in better order than this is.''
And Tchi said, ``I would prefer a small mountain temple,
``With order in the observances,
with a suitable performance of the ritual,''
And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute
The low sounds continuing
after his hand left the strings,
And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves,
And he looked after the sound:
``The old swimming hole,
``And the boys flopping off the planks,
``Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins.''
And Kung smiled upon all of them equally.
And Thseng-sie desired to know:
``Which had answered correctly?''
And Kung said, ``They have all answered correctly,
``That is to say, each in his nature.''
And Kung raised his cane against Yuan Jang,
Yuan Jang being his elder,
For Yuan Jang sat by the roadside pretending to
be receiving wisdom.
And Kung said
``You old fool, come out of it,
``Get up and do something useful.''
And Kung said
``Respect a child's faculties
``From the moment it inhales the clear air,
``But a man of fifty who knows nothng
Is worthy of no respect.''
And "When the prince has gathered about him
``All the savants and artists, his riches will be fully employed.''
And Kung said, and wrote on the bo leaves:
If a man have not order within him
He can not spread order about him;
And if a man have not order within him
His family will not act with due order;
And if the prince have not order within him
[...] Read more
poem by Ezra Pound
Added by Poetry Lover
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Kung Fu Fighting (dance Remix)
Oh Oh Oh Ooooh
Ya'll ready?
Oh Oh Oh Ooooh
Yeah.
Let's Go!
Oh Oh Oh Ooooh
Now here it is, want to make you move
something with a funky Kung Foo groove
something that will make you shout
make you play to the crowd
and make you want to turn it out
so homies gather 'round (right 'round)
i'll pick you up take you on go pound-for-pound
'cuz i'm the only man who'll please ya
i got a little something that'll tease ya
so throw those hands up high (come on)
shake your body move from side to side (thats right)
cuz we just begun party people in the place yeah we're having fun
oh yeah i'm gonna be a big star
i'm gonna lay it on and go woo-hah
cuz when the mood gets exciting (come on)
when everybody's Kung Foo fighting
(Chorus)
Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting - hunh (come on, hoo-hah)
Those kids were fast as lighhing - ha (woo-chop)
In fact it was a little bit frightening - hunh (huh-huh-huh)
But they fought with expert timing. - ha
Sing it girl
Sexy Kung Foo Fighter
Let me take you higher
i got the moves baby
sing kung foo fighter
take you higher
Aaaaw yeah!
There's bright lights on and no cold flow (so what?)
A kung foo fighter in a disco
he's out to take his chance
he goes for honeys in the house and he goes for romance (he's on the floor)
he's got a white suit on fight pants on and the night has just begun
cuz when he lays it on with style
a ladies man with a nice smile
and right befroe his eyes
sees a pretty young thing looking real fly (so fly)
he wants to make the score
so he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor
he's giving her line after line
she tells him that he looks real fine
she sees the man's perfect timing
just like when he's kung foo fighting
(chorus)
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dance, Dance, Dance
After six hours of school Ive had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my chick by my side the radio does the trick
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
Ohby!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when its slow and jump it when its fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dance Dance Dance
After six hours of school I've had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my guy by my side the radio does the trick
I wanna dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when it's slow and jump it when it's fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
song performed by Wilson Phillips
Added by Lucian Velea
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Do Your Dance
{b-side of cream}
Do your dance, why should u wait any longer? (let me push up on it)
Take a chance, it could only make you stronger (Im gonna push up on it)
(heh, heh, heh)
Do your dance (its time to do your dance)
(its time to do your dance)
(come on, come on)
La-la-la-la-la (come on, come on, move something)
La-la-la-la (move something)
(come on, come on, move something)
La-la-la-la-la (come on, move something)
La-la-la-la (come on, come on, move something, yeah)
Do your dance, (yeah)
Why should u wait any longer? (why you wanna wait? )
[u wanna babe, u wanna babe]
U wanna dance with me
Do your dance (dance, dance, dance)
U wanna dance with me (oh yeah) (lets dance)
Doobie, doobie, doobie
Do your dance (do your dance) (its time to do your dance)
(u know what Im saying, its time, yall)
(its time to do your dance)
Ooh baby, baby (its time to do that dance. oh yeah, thats it)
Ooh baby, baby (it aint that hard cmon now)
Ohh baby, come on lets dance
Ooh baby, baby
Ooh baby, baby
Ohh baby, come on lets dance
(oh yeah) get on up
Do your dance
(sweet thing) (shake it, shake it baby)
Do your dance (sweet thing)
(its time to do your dance) (sweet thing)
Everybodys got somethin that they know how to do (everybody)
If you wanna do it baby, Ill do it with you (come on)
Come on do, uh, (here we go)
Come on do, uh, (here we go)
Do your dance
Come on
Do your dance (its time to do your dance)
Do your dance (its time to do your dance)
Come on, now
Do your dance (its time to do your dance)
Do your dance (its time to do your dance)
Come on, now
(get on the floor and slam)
Listen 2 the drummer (get on the floor and slam)
Listen 2 the drummer, now (get on the floor and slam)
Listen 2 the drummer (get on the floor and slam)
Listen 2 the drummer, now
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hongree and Mahry
The sun was setting in its wonted west,
When HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
Met MAHRY DAUBIGNY, the Village Rose,
Under the Wizard's Oak - old trysting-place
Of those who loved in rosy Aquitaine.
They thought themselves unwatched, but they were not;
For HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
Found in LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES DUBOSC
A rival, envious and unscrupulous,
Who thought it not foul scorn to dodge his steps,
And listen, unperceived, to all that passed
Between the simple little Village Rose
And HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores.
A clumsy barrack-bully was DUBOSC,
Quite unfamiliar with the well-bred tact
That animates a proper gentleman
In dealing with a girl of humble rank.
You'll understand his coarseness when I say
He would have married MAHRY DAUBIGNY,
And dragged the unsophisticated girl
Into the whirl of fashionable life,
For which her singularly rustic ways,
Her breeding (moral, but extremely rude),
Her language (chaste, but ungrammatical),
Would absolutely have unfitted her.
How different to this unreflecting boor
Was HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores.
Contemporary with the incident
Related in our opening paragraph,
Was that sad war 'twixt Gallia and ourselves
That followed on the treaty signed at Troyes;
And so LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES DUBOSC
(Brave soldier, he, with all his faults of style)
And HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
Were sent by CHARLES of France against the lines
Of our Sixth HENRY (Fourteen twenty-nine),
To drive his legions out of Aquitaine.
When HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
Returned, suspecting nothing, to his camp,
After his meeting with the Village Rose,
He found inside his barrack letter-box
A note from the commanding officer,
Requiring his attendance at head-quarters.
He went, and found LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES.
"Young HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
[...] Read more
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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All The Madman
Day after day
They send my friends away
To mansions cold and grey
To the far side of town
Where the thin men stalk the streets
While the sane stay underground
Day after day
They tell me I can go
They tell me I can blow
To the far side of town
Where it's pointless to be high
'Cause it's such a long way down
So I tell them that
I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm
I will do me harm
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
I'm not quite right at all...am I?
Don't set me free, I'm as heavy as can be
Just my librium and me
And my E.S.T. makes three
'Cause I'd rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sadmen roaming free
And I'd rather play here
With all the madmen
For I'm quite content they're all as sane
As me
(Where can the horizon lie
When a nation hides
Its organic minds
In a cellar...dark and grim
They must be very dim)
Day after day
They take some brain away
Then turn my face around
To the far side of town
And tell me that it's real
Then ask me how I feel
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
I'm not quite right at all
Don't set me free, I'm as helpless as can be
My libido's split on me
Gimme some good 'ole lobotomy
'Cause I'd rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sadmen
Roaming free
And I'd rather play here
With all the madmen
For I'm quite content
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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All The Madmen
Day after day
They send my friends away
To mansions cold and grey
To the far side of town
Where the thin men stalk the streets
While the sane stay underground
Day after day
They tell me I can go
They tell me I can blow
To the far side of town
Where its pointless to be high
cause its such a long way down
So I tell them that
I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm
I will do me harm
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
Im not quite right at all...am i?
Dont set me free, Im as heavy as can be
Just my librium and me
And my e.s.t. makes three
cause Id rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sadmen roaming free
And Id rather play here
With all the madmen
For Im quite content theyre all as sane
As me
(where can the horizon lie
When a nation hides
Its organic minds
In a cellar...dark and grim
They must be very dim)
Day after day
They take some brain away
Then turn my face around
To the far side of town
And tell me that its real
Then ask me how I feel
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
Im not quite right at all
Dont set me free, Im as helpless as can be
My libidos split on me
Gimme some good ole lobotomy
cause Id rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sadmen
Roaming free
And Id rather play here
With all the madmen
For Im quite content
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dance, Dance Everywhere!
Dance, Dance Dance
everywhere,
When I look at the sky,
I see the clouds dance
Into steps of winds
My heart dance when I watch clouds dance!
How it can make me dance?
Without any tune or beats,
Its own beats me my heart dance.
Some strange tune it sings in silence and dance!
When I see at shore of ocean waves that dance,
Some birds in sky fly and dance,
On the waves boats that to the tune of waves, dance,
My mind sing lyricless
music to which it dance!
When I walk along the beach,
The headless crown of palm trees with wide open hands dance,
Watching them dance trees start their dance!
When I on countryside, green paddy fields dance,
Looking at them, the bird on the branch dance!
When walk along, trees with fruits dance,
And to its own rustling music, leaves dance!
When I walk in the park,
Plants with flowers dance!
Looking at the graceful dance flowerless dance,
When I move on street, hope and hap dance,
Seeing at them even hopeless an hapless to dance!
Smile on faces with hope dance,
Wrinkles on the forehead of hapless dance!
When I look at people in them mind dance,
In some happiness dance,
In some sorrowfulness dance,
Some I found with desperation dance
In some their laziness dance,
In some saintliness dance,
Most of the time wickedness dance,
And in some other dreams that dance!
Success that dance with some,
Distress that in unsuccessful dance,
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poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator
Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!
It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!
Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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IV. Tertium Quid
True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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The Bumboat Woman's Story
I'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and work, and grief,
My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn by Time, the Thief!
For terrible sights I've seen, and dangers great I've run -
I'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost done!
Ah! I've been young in my time, and I've played the deuce with men!
I'm speaking of ten years past - I was barely sixty then:
My cheeks were mellow and soft, and my eyes were large and sweet,
POLL PINEAPPLE'S eyes were the standing toast of the Royal Fleet!
A bumboat woman was I, and I faithfully served the ships
With apples and cakes, and fowls, and beer, and halfpenny dips,
And beef for the generous mess, where the officers dine at nights,
And fine fresh peppermint drops for the rollicking midshipmites.
Of all the kind commanders who anchored in Portsmouth Bay,
By far the sweetest of all was kind LIEUTENANT BELAYE.'
LIEUTENANT BELAYE commanded the gunboat HOT CROSS BUN,
She was seven and thirty feet in length, and she carried a gun.
With a laudable view of enhancing his country's naval pride,
When people inquired her size, LIEUTENANT BELAYE replied,
"Oh, my ship, my ship is the first of the Hundred and Seventy-ones!"
Which meant her tonnage, but people imagined it meant her guns.
Whenever I went on board he would beckon me down below,
"Come down, Little Buttercup, come" (for he loved to call me so),
And he'd tell of the fights at sea in which he'd taken a part,
And so LIEUTENANT BELAYE won poor POLL PINEAPPLE'S heart!
But at length his orders came, and he said one day, said he,
"I'm ordered to sail with the HOT CROSS BUN to the German Sea."
And the Portsmouth maidens wept when they learnt the evil day,
For every Portsmouth maid loved good LIEUTENANT BELAYE.
And I went to a back back street, with plenty of cheap cheap shops,
And I bought an oilskin hat and a second-hand suit of slops,
And I went to LIEUTENANT BELAYE (and he never suspected ME!)
And I entered myself as a chap as wanted to go to sea.
We sailed that afternoon at the mystic hour of one, -
Remarkably nice young men were the crew of the HOT CROSS BUN,
I'm sorry to say that I've heard that sailors sometimes swear,
But I never yet heard a BUN say anything wrong, I declare.
When Jack Tars meet, they meet with a "Messmate, ho! What cheer?"
But here, on the HOT CROSS BUN, it was "How do you do, my dear?"
When Jack Tars growl, I believe they growl with a big big D-
But the strongest oath of the HOT CROSS BUNS was a mild "Dear me!"
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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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