Well I think they are funny, you can please yourself. …
Oops!
I am standing in the doorway of a great big Hurcules.
My mouth is much too dry for them to hear my feeble pleas.
I am frightened, faint and quaking from my shoulders to my knees
And wishing I was done.
I regret I joined the Paras but I keep my plug hole squeezed
As I hook into the line and join the company
A lot of men are dropping and one of them is me.
Then it's my turn to be gone.
I am falling through the sky
The wind is washing out the cheese.
It feels just like I'm flying
Well, will wonders never cease?
I'm at one with heaven and I'm doing as I please
I forgot my parachoo….
*******
Blast!
Sat in the wood by an old tree bole
Thinking of a rabbit hidden in an hole
Rabbit showed
I’d no doubt I was looking at him down the spout
The rabbit jumped up when the gun went bang
And all around the wood the wild wood rang
Like rain came down
Like sun came up
My ears started ringing like they never going to stop
The gun come back beside my head
I lay down like I was dead
Down beside me on the floor
Lie some fingers –three or four
The rabbit’s gone to kingdom come
Rabbit’s gone and my gun
Bits of rabbit, bits of gun, bits of me are going home
At A+E I explain “Don’t make me laugh nurse,
I can’t stand pain.”
*******
I get these nightmares doctor:
Oh Oh
When I woke up this morning I found me on the floor
An echo in my head from a knock on the door
A-rap a-tap tap and whoever was gone
The echo continued on and on
Too much beer and Indian food
First thing next morning you won’t feel good
Then I put on the kettle stick my finger in the sleeve
A quick splash and lick, then I have to leave
Between my teeth a slice of burnt toast
Halfway down the path reading the post
One sip of tea I couldn’t wait
To finish the cup I’m already late
A breath of fresh air around my knees
And I realise where I’ve left my keys
They’re in my trousers, upstairs on the floor
Ohhh what a pity
I just slammed the door
*******
Old Bikes
It was dark neath the moon when the headlights went out
I coasted downhill saw rabbits about
The strain and the cold went straight to my head
I heard the chain in the box as my engine went dead
It had been missing all day because of the rain
Now all of my body was feeling the strain
But she’s an old English bike and I can forgive her
Then I lose the brakes as we head for the river
Oh dear!
There are pints on the bar and ears for the bending
And help and old parts from the lads for the mending
“This is the same cylinder head as my old BSA”
“Will this exhaust do round the other way?”
“It reminds me of the time…”
“Do you remember when….?”
Those were the days
Then we were real men
And all in all with very few spanners,
Roll your own papers and chisels and hammers
It seemed you cold do what ever you liked
Then the Japs came along with the “Reliable Bike”
And now it appears that wherever you roam
Here or abroad that you know you will get home
(The traffic and politics always depending)
Or maybe the “Customs” are you plans upending
You never break down still you never stop spending
The fool and his money are still easily parted
Yet is it the times or are we hard hearted?
I can’t quite see how progress should spoil
The fellowship we had when we were covered in oil
Alone at the bar you stand breaking your heart
Your bike’s at the dealers awaiting a part
All of your friends clad in clean clothes
Reading holiday brochures not Motorcycle News
Manicured hands, no black stubby nails
Holiday snaps not traveller’s tales
Oh those good old days
All chrome and black
The sound of a Goldie will carry me back
Or maybe an AJ or an A10
Will carry me back to the fifties again
If you had two wheels you could make do and mend
Because everyone else on two wheels was a friend
*******
weathercharts 
is this a poem? 🙂
Three odd odes. Not exactly hilarious but in my not very humble opinion, entetainng.The first one I wrote last night whilst watch a film. (I forget what. It may have been an Hercules aircraft on the news? I've no idea. Ah, now I remember. I was watching the History Channel dealing with Arnheim, an airborn assault in Holland in World War Two. It was a disaster. Ill advised, ill plotted, and ill executed. The general behind it made lots of mistakes like that and became a national hero.)I would never, ever consider jumping out of a 'plane, no more than I'd want to climb a sheer cliff, though I lived in a popular mountain climbing area.The second one is semi auto-biographical. I used to go hunting when I was your age but only with an air gun. Someone hit me in the face with an hammer a long time later and I had to go to hospital.I didn't want anyone involved with investigating an industrial accident so I refused to tell them what happened and they refused to treat me till I did. So… well that's another story…And the third one was always happenig to me, as I never had any money to repair the old junker I used to ride. :cheers: :cheers: I always had enough for beer though. :cheers: :cheers:
Tell me a funny story -a short "anecdote". And I will show you how to write them. I know you'd like to and I think you can.I know a lot of difficulty is that I use words and grammar that are difficult to translte but I know how to overcome that problem for you too.Look at the first paragraph on this post. It can be written as one sentence in English:Tell me a funny story, a short anecdote and I will show you how to write them as I know that you'd like to and I think you can.Compare how Google or Babbelfish translates that with this:Tell me a funny story. A short anecdote. I will show you how to write poems. I know you'd like to. I think you can.Tell me a funny câu chuyện, một đoạn ngắn anecdote và tôi sẽ cho bạn thấy làm thế nào để viết như chúng tôi biết rằng bạn muốn và tôi nghĩ rằng bạn có thể.Tell me a funny story. Đáp ngắn anecdote. Tôi sẽ cho bạn thấy làm thế nào để viết bài thơ. Tôi biết bạn muốn. Tôi nghĩ bạn có thể.What a NAFF translation. Which is best? Or are they both awful?
u live in a mountainous place and u hunted? woah….where is it exactly? 🙂 sounds very interesting, but dangerous, too. when u were at my age- 14 with a hammer hit in ur face? omg…
When you are young you sometimes wory about death. When you are old you sometimes worry about having missed opportunities when you were young. You don't fear death so much. There is nothing you can do about either.Why worry?
(ur comments are always very long and there're lots of words i dont know :p so i feel a little lazy whenever i read them :D)
both of them are so-so, they both express the main idea of u 🙂
You will return to them as you mature and get the sense of them. In rememberance of me when I kick the bucket.I used to go shooting rabbits on a local farm. My cousin who lived in London had never seen mountains till he came to vist.He became a mountain climber and a went on to explore the world. I never bothered as I was quite happy living in my paradise. All mountains have gentle slopes on one side and steep on the other as far as I know. The view is the same on the top.I live in a town now but can not see the sky or walk the sea shore like I used to. So I understand how he must have felt. If I had some money I would go home.I was working with a young lad and he hit me by accident. I did not want him blamed. It was hardest to feel the pain and at the same time try to tell him to stop worrying.I drove myself to hospital so I was not badly damaged. They must have thought I had been trying to kill myself with a hammer or something stupid. I was just trying to mind my own business and get them to mind theirs.
kick the bucket means die, right? lad means guy, right?the first time i can understand throughly ur 2 comments :)Uhm… actually, i dont think about death and i'm not afraid of it, it's just something had to happen and it will, matter of time 🙂 i'm just upset about what i've missed 🙂
in ur poems, what do these mean?parachoo (noun)?hard (noun)AJ, A10?
They are full of English idioms. The first poem I wrote to an olld tune. The song we call John Brown's Body and the US call the Battle Hymn of the Republic.On the very last word, clap your hands. as you say: parachute.Paras are the Airborne troops of Britain. The Red Devils. THe word you is a general term in English it means the person you are talking to or it can mean "colloquially" (= in a manner of speaking) people you are talking about.Most youths pass through a phase that contemplates humanity. No mere humans can do anything about it but only the terminally ill learn not to fear it. Old age is a terminal illness after all.My hard… hmmm that should read me hard. It came back and hit me hard. I'll edit it.Kick the bucket down the well = bury. Rhyming slang for gone to hell. An AJ is an AJS an old make of motorcycles. An A10 was a BSA (make) the model A10 was a 650cc twin piston. A design so popular in the 1950's that every maker produced a version and all the major parts fitted each other.
omg…….. :faint: :faint: let see how much i can remember :)they are full of english idioms- that means "they are all english idioms", right?
These ARE funny WL. Especially the one that begins "When I woke up this morning I found me on the floor" 😀
I serve to please. But like compliments as well as anyone but not too many nor too often.So thanks both for your attention.Bee, honey, you will learn a lot of English if you stick it out. I am sorry it is all uphill at the moment but it will get easier as you settle into it.My only worry is you will gain English at the expense of your Viet Namese. Now let us see some VietNam poetry translated.Some homework for school projects.Poetry is full of idioms and colloquialisms. It is how to convey feelings and attitudes in a short time.A poet must turn a long story into a few verses if he is to hold anyone's attention.Here is a brilliant example by Charles Causley:
http://www.beginnersonstage.co.uk/pdf/there_was_an_old_woman.pdfEvery line paints a different picture like a cameo or a cartoon in a comic. It goes from a little old lady trying to get the attention of the police about something.Then she suddenly bursts into life.She turns out to be an harridan or nut-case. And you can just see the glasses go flying, can't you?Then she is instantly in court, no messing about. And she gives the judge a piece of her mind too.And then you can see the pictures of a prison.And what a perfect ending. Three words to sum it all up.
My only worry is you will gain English at the expense of your VietnameseNow let us see some VietNam poetry translated.—> i dont get you about these
You put English poems on your blog. Why not Viet Nam poetry. I know they have some. And translate it for us to see. We have never seen any.Well I have but I don't remember it.
vietnamese poems? i have a lot. but i think it's very hard to translate them into english. meanings will change, and there're lots of HÁN-VIỆT words in vnm poems(maybe i should call them "CHINESE-VIETNAMESE words") and there're no right words to express them in english
When you quote someone qwrite the word quote in square brackets like these: []Paste the text you want to quote then close the code with this /quote{quote}text{/quote}
Print them in Cantonese which is what everyone reads but no-one speaks in your neck of the woods if I was told correctly? And of course in you own language.In fact print them exactly the way you want. That will become your style.As long as you put one or two good ones online now and again you will honour your own people and not make others think Viet Nam is being taken over by foreigners.Only post a few. release them slowly.Then one day as you learn more English and other foreign language words, you might have a go with the translation. Someone else might have a go before then and give you some tips on how to do it.But that is not important. It is important your artists are given equal billing with everyone else.
You don't have to follow the exact format of something you are translating. You must use your heart and not your head for poetry. It is an art not a job.Here is something I translated to suit me from one situation to another:The original: Without you.No, I can't forget this evening Or your face as you were leaving But I guess that's just the way the story goes You always smile but in your eyes your sorrow shows Yes, it shows No, I can't forget tomorrorow When I think of all my sorrows When I had you there but then I let you go And now it's only fair that I should let you know What you should know I can't live if living is without you I can't live, I can't give any more Can't live if living is without you I can't give, I can't give any morehttp://www.leoslyrics.com/listlyrics.php?hid=XmtKa27qfLc%3Dhttp://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=gOj1xysfS5E&NR=1*******I can’t forget the feelingWhen I fell down through the ceilingAlthough I laughed I hurt a lot more than my noseBut I guess that that is just the way it goesAnd I can’t forget the feelingAnd the patch is so revealingThey all smiled but in my heart of hearts I guess I always knewTHE FOREMAN KNOWS! Oh oh woe!I expect to have to take it on my toesBut I guess that’s just the way the story goes