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The Absent-Minded Beggar

When you've shouted ' Rule Britannia,' when you've sung ' God save the Queen,'
When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth,
Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
For a gentleman in khaki ordered South?
He's an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great -
But we and Paul must take him as we find him -
He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate
And he's left a lot of little things behind him!
Duke's son - cook's son - son of a hundred kings
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!)
Each of 'em doing his country's work
(and who's to look after their things?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay - pay - pay !
There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to,
For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did.
There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due,
And its more than rather likely there’s a kid.
There are girls he’s walked with casual. They’ll be sorry now he’s gone,
For an absent-minded beggar they will find him,
But it ain’t the time for sermons with the winter coming on

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poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Beowulf

LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well

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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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La Chevelure (Her Hair)

Ô toison, moutonnant jusque sur l'encolure!
Ô boucles! Ô parfum chargé de nonchaloir!
Extase! Pour peupler ce soir l'alcôve obscure
Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure,
Je la veux agiter dans l'air comme un mouchoir!

La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique,
Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt,
Vit dans tes profondeurs, forêt aromatique!
Comme d'autres esprits voguent sur la musique,
Le mien, ô mon amour! nage sur ton parfum.

J'irai là-bas où l'arbre et l'homme, pleins de sève,
Se pâment longuement sous l'ardeur des climats;
Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m'enlève!
Tu contiens, mer d'ébène, un éblouissant rêve
De voiles, de rameurs, de flammes et de mâts:

Un port retentissant où mon âme peut boire
À grands flots le parfum, le son et la couleur

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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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The Iliad: Book 9

Thus did the Trojans watch. But Panic, comrade of blood-stained
Rout, had taken fast hold of the Achaeans and their princes were all
of them in despair. As when the two winds that blow from Thrace- the
north and the northwest- spring up of a sudden and rouse the fury of
the main- in a moment the dark waves uprear their heads and scatter
their sea-wrack in all directions- even thus troubled were the
hearts of the Achaeans.
The son of Atreus in dismay bade the heralds call the people to a
council man by man, but not to cry the matter aloud; he made haste
also himself to call them, and they sat sorry at heart in their
assembly. Agamemnon shed tears as it were a running stream or cataract
on the side of some sheer cliff; and thus, with many a heavy sigh he
spoke to the Achaeans. "My friends," said he, "princes and councillors
Of the Argives, the hand of heaven has been laid heavily upon me.
Cruel Jove gave me his solemn promise that I should sack the city of
Troy before returning, but he has played me false, and is now
bidding me go ingloriously back to Argos with the loss of much people.
Such is the will of Jove, who has laid many a proud city in the dust
as he will yet lay others, for his power is above all. Now, therefore,
let us all do as I say and sail back to our own country, for we

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Leave My Girl Alone

You better leave
You better leave my little girl alone
You better leave
You better leave my little girl alone
Before I go and get evil minded
And I go and do somethin' wrong
You call up my house just yesterday
And I picked up the extension
And I heard every word you say
Why don't you just go on man
Go on and leave my little girl alone
Yeah before I get evil minded
And I go and do somethin' wrong
Yeah you call up my house
All hours of the night
Let me tell you mister
That's a damn good way to start a fight
Yeah why don't you just go on
Man and leave my little girl alone
Before I get evil minded

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song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Absent-Minded Rabbit

Take me into the forest and,
Show me an absent-minded rabbit who wears seven pairs of gloves;
Take me to the zoo and,
Show me an absent-minded rabbit who wears seven pairs of gloves;
This will sound like fun at bedtime but,
What kind of fundamental rights do i have on this earth?
For i have to defy nationality and culture boundaries for this love.
It is funny when you are not globally competitive,
But i have to listen to the lecturers at times;
And with seemingly irreconcilable differences,
For i have to show them my status.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Slipping Through My Fingers

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that Im losing her forever
And without really entering her world
Im glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see whats in her mind
Each time I think Im close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when shes gone theres that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I cant deny

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song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slippin' Through My Fingers

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny

[...] Read more

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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Absent From Routine

Absent but not of mind.
Too protective of precious consciousness,
Peace of mind and happiness.
Absent from nonsense.
Professed and not guessed.
And not seeking any to find.
To torment like the rest.
Absent from routine,
And thoughts of wasting time.
Absent from props used for chaos.
And those creating it to market!
As if this is a goldmine.
And the grease of sleaze,
Is there to slop it not stop it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Absent Friends

We often speak about
the fun we used to have
whenever we retrace our memories,
remembering our absent friends.

We remember our growing years,
the smiles on our faces
and the funny things we did
with our absent friends.

As the years roll on their way
and age creeps up on us
we sometimes like to reflect
on our long gone absent friends.

The flower of youth has withered,
but the flower never died.
It is still locked in our memory
when we remember our absent friends.

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poem by David Harris
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