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Che Menats Im Giankoum Yeraz
CHE MENATS IM GIANKOUM YERAZ.
VOR YERAZEM MOUT KISHERIN.
CHE MENATS IM GIANKOUM MI HOUYS.
VOR SAVARNEM MECHN HOUYSERIS.
IM GIANKI YERAZNER NA.
PAKHAV KENATS MOUT KISHERIN.
IM GIANKI HOUYSNER NA.
MENAG TOGHETS MECHN ANDARIN.
YETE TENEN INDZ MECH PANDIN.
YEV GASHKANTEN SHEGHTANEROV.
BIDI TARNAM POKRIG TERCHNIG.
YEV MODED KAM SAVARNELOV.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man noh done cross riva, noh fi cuss alligator long mout long.
Cantarai d'aquest trobadors
Cantarai d'aquestz trobadors
que canton de maintas colors
e.l pieier cuida dir mout gen;
mas a cantar lor er aillors
q'entrametre.n vei cen pastors
c'us non sap qe.s mont'o.s dissen.
(I shall sing of the troubadours
who sing in every kind of way;
and many think the worst of them.
But I see a hundred shepherds,
and don't know if they are going
up or going down.)
poem by Bernard de Ventadorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dot Baby Off Mine
Mine cracious! mine cracious! shust look here und see
A Deutscher so habby as habby can pe!
Der beoples all dink dot no prains I haf got;
Vas grazy mit trinking, or someding like dot:
Id vasn't pecause I trinks lager und vine;
Id vas all on aggount off dot baby off mine.
Dot schmall leedlc vellow I dells you vas qveer;
Not mooch pigger roundt as a goot glass off peer;
Mit a bare-footed hed, und nose but a schpeck;
A mout dot goes most to der pack off his neck;
Und his leedle pink toes mit der rest all combine
To gif sooch a charm to dot baby off mine.
I dells you dot baby vas von off der poys,
Und beats leedle Yawcob for making a noise.
He shust has pecun to shbeak goot English too;
Says " Mamma" und " Papa," und somedimes "Ah, goo!"
You don'd find a baby den dimes oudt off nine
Dot vas qvite so schmart as dot baby off mine.
He grawls der vloor ofer, und drows dings aboudt,
Und poots eferyding he can find in his mout;
He dumbles der shtairs down, und falls vrom his chair,
Und gifes mine Katrina von derrible sckare.
Mine hair shtands like shquills on a mat borcubine
Ven I dinks off dose pranks off dot baby off mine.
Dere vas someding, you pet, I don'd likes pooty vell,
To hear in der nighdt dimes dot young Deutscher yell,
Und dravel der ped-room midout many clo'es,
Vhile der chills down der shpine off mine pack quickly goes:
Does leedle shimnasdic dricks vasn't so fine
Dot I cuts oup at nighdt mit dot baby off mine.
Vell, dese leedle schafers vas going to pe men,
Und all off dese droubles vill peen ofer den:
Dey vill vear a vhite shirt-vront inshtead off a bib,
Und vouldn't got tucked oup at nighdt in deir crib.
Vell, vell, ven I'm feeble, und in life's decline,
May mine oldt age pe cheered py dot baby off mine!
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Na Tum Jano Na Hum
Beparavah hey ab TUM humse kuch is tarhaa..
Na TUM jano Na HUM...
ye fasalaa hey kuch dooriye ka par anE KA koi nhi or RASTA..
Ruthe hey aaj tum humse, kese manaye aaj HUM TUM KO...
Na TUM jano Na HUM...
Bepanha the mohhobat tumse..
Begarzz bana diya ek pal me hum E...
ab chen nahi na koi sahara bus ab tuhe mera KINara...
Beparavah hey ab TUM humse kuch is tarhaa..
Na TUM jano Na HUM...
bethye hey ab intzar karke ab mout ka..
NA AYE TUM AGAR TO KOI GUM NAHI, SAHI YA GAALAT AB KUCH NAHI..
JANE NAHI KOI PAAS NAHI TU MERE KARIB NAHI....INZAR HEY TERA AKHARI BAAR
Na TUM jano Na HUM...
Beparavah hey ab TUM humse kuch is tarhaa..
Na TUM jano Na HUM..
poem by Sandeep Jahaal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mine Vamily
Dimbled scheeks, mit eyes off plue, Mout' like id vas moisd mit dew, Und leedle teeth shust peekin' droo- Dot's der baby.
Curly head, und full off glee, Browsers all oudt at der knee— He vas peen blaying horse, you see— Dot's leedle Yawcob.
Von hundord-seexty in der shade, Der oder day vhen she vas veighed- She beats me soon, I vas avraid— Dot's mine Katrina.
Barefooted head, und pooty stoudt, Mit grooked legs dot vill bend oudt, Fond off his bier und sauer-kraut— Dot's me himself.
Von schmall young baby, full off fun, Von leedle prite-eyed, roguish son, Von frau to greet vhen vork vas done— Dot's mine vamily.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Leedle Dutch Baby
Leedle Dutch baby haff come ter town!
Jabber und jump till der day gone down--
Jabber und sphlutter und sphlit hees jaws--
Vot a Dutch baby dees Londsmon vas!
I dink dose mout' vas leedle too vide
Ober he laugh fon dot altso-side!
Haff got blenty off deemple und vrown--?
Hey! Leedle Dutchman come ter town!
Leedle Dutch baby, I dink me proud
Ober your fader can schquall dot loud
Ven he vas leedle Dutch baby like you
Und yoost don't gare, like he alvays do--!
Guess ven dey vean him on beer, you bet
Dot's der because dot he aind veaned yet--!
Vot you said off he dringk you down--?
Hey! Leedle Dutchman come ter town!
Leedle Dutch baby, yoost schquall avay--
Schquall fon preakfast till gisterday!
Better you all time gry und shout
Dan shmile me vonce fon der coffin out!
Vot I gare off you keek my nose
Downside-up mit your heels und toes--
Downside, oder der oopside-down--?
Hey! Leedle Dutchman come ter town!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Safe Sex
Chorus:
Me guh suh den sex is not what it used to be,
Belive me, it displease me
Nuff a dem a walk like dem hot but
When yuh connect di dot
Dem nuh easy dem nuh disease free
Repeat
Verse 1:
If yuh check it Danny deh wid suzie but im luv off sheron
Waant get the body bad im waant fi get di action,
Sheron guh sleep wid har boyfren dan
Dan dee did guh cheat an guh sleep wid ann,
Ann did hav di disease and give it to dan,
Dan give it to sheron, now dan is same one
Si dung wid susan askin di question
Where all dis aids and disease com from?
Chorus
Verse 2:
Den yuh got some fuh-funky guy
Weh a try imitate ooman,
Dem dey fassy deh wih nuh waant dem up ina wih island
Uptown or downtown nuh matta weh yuh com from
From yuh nuh like dem guy deh mek a hear shout BLAM BLAM
Nuff ooman got disease
And dem still nah tek a ease
And dem still outta street dem tease nuff mon
A tek dem cyar key when dem waant guh ovaseas
But dis ya dog ya im nuh mingle wid fleas
Chorus
Verse 3:
Buck up ina O.P.P
Odda people property yuh betta use a condom form of rotection
Else yuh gonna end up ina nodda situation
An yuh nah guh get chance fi com and eat dis one
Unu fi check out di dutty dem meditation
99 a weh wi live in next a 2000
An yuh know seh dis a revelation.
Suh people unu fi open up unu mout an sing out dis one.
Chorus to fade
song performed by by Sean Paul
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Der Drummer
Who puts oup at der pest hotel,
Und dakes his oysders on der schell,
Und mit der frauleins cuts a schwell
Der drummer.
Who vas it gomes indo mine schtore,
Drows down his pundles on der vloor,
Und nefer schtops to shut der door!
Der drummer.
Who dakes me py der handt, und say,
"Hans Pfeiffer, how you vas to-day?"
Und goes for peesness righdt avay?
Der drummer.
Who shpreads his zamples in a trice,
Und dells me, "Look, und see how nice"?
Und says I gets "der bottom price"?
Der drummer.
Who dells how sheap der goots vas bought,
Mooch less as vot I gould imbort,
But lets dem go as he vas "short"?
Der drummer.
Who says der tings vas eggstra vine, —
"Vrom Sharmany, ubon der Rhine," —
Und sheats me den dimes oudt off nine?
Der drummer.
Who varrants all der goots to suit
Der gustomers ubon his route,
Und ven dey gomes dey vas no goot?
Der drummer.
Who gomes aroundt ven I been oudt,
Drinks oup mine bier, and eats mine kraut,
Und kiss Katrina in der mout'?
Der drummer.
Who, ven he gomes again dis vay,
Vill hear vot Pfeiffer has to say,
Und mit a plack eye goes avay?
Der drummer.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Yette Tou Kas
Yette tou kas
Mergatsadz bardeznere norits bidi haknen ganatch
Ah yette tou kas
Mortsvadz hekyatneri herosnere norits bidi kan ashkhark
Ah yette tou kas
Dkhour im yerkeri parere bidi pokhen irents jampan tegouz norits zvarj tarnan
Ah yette tou kas
Ankout martotz hokinerou nnchadz khghjeere bidi zartnen kalen arach
Yette tou kas
Mout poghotsneri odar esdvernere bidi tarnan shad harazad
Ah yette tou kas
Vorpoug manougnerei khapanadz jbidnere tartsyal hayrenik bidi tarnan
Ah yette tou kas
Skavor srdere bidi pokhen irents sev eskestnere bidi prnen bar
Ah yette tou kas
Hoknadz hokvouys moloradz houysere khaghaghoutyoun bidi kdnen
Ah yette tou kas
Dkhour I'm serdi arouynlva artsounknere bidi tatrin yar
Ah ytte tou kas
Soud angadar serderou mech porpokadz khosdoumnere tegouz iraganan
Ah yette tou kas
Moloradz im hokvou pats verkere tegouz poujvin houysere norits tarnan indz harazad
Ah payts el tou chegas arten tadarge indz hamar polor askhar yar.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Odaren Odar Harazadnou Odar
menag em im ashkharoum el chounem siradz.
teshvar im ashkharoum chounem vosge pakhd.
hokis e hoknadz al g hegega.
im giankn e tadarg mout anabad.
menag em menag ashkhares e tadarg, hanterts polor martots harazad odar.
jebide kaghtets vaghouts im hokin.
takhidze badets teshvar im giankin.
tavajan serer yelan im jampin.
sere vaghouts toghets im hokin.
im siradznere mashetsin im hokin.
arants siro el inch garje abril.
siro oughinerneyin pladag khavar.
im gianki tsourd janabarhin avagh te hantibetsi ankout serderi.
im serner mishd harazad yev ansahman.
payts avagh te sere mishd yeghav indz hamar tavajan.
tegouz yes chounem vosge hakousdner.
giankes e teshvar neman potorgod tsmra.
mishd angeghdz serner im giankin miag yeraz.
payts sere indz hamar mishd yeghav soud yev tavjan.
im ashkharne menag tegouz khejoghvadz, odaren odar harazadn ou odar.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ole Wirginny
In a little log house in Ole Wirginny,
Sum niggas lib dat cum from Guinny;
Dare massas flog' em berry little -
But gib dem plenty work and wittle.
Ole Massa Jim, real clebber body,
Ebbery day he gib dem toddy,
An' wen de sun fall in de ribber,
Dey stop de work - an' res de libber.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
At night dey gadder round de fire
To ta'k ob tings wot hab perspire -
De ashes on de tater toss 'em,
Parch de corn an' roast de possum;
An' arter dat de niggas splutter,
An' hop an' dance de Chicken Flutter.
Da happy den an' hab no bodder -
Dey snug as rat in a stack-a-fodder,
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
'Twas on the nineteenf day of October,
When de Juba dance was ober;
Dey he' a great noise dat soun' like t'under,
Which make de niggas stare and wonder!
Now Cæsar say, he lay a dolla',
De debbil in de corn, for he hea'd him holler;
But Cuffee grin an say, 'Now cum see,
I b'lieb it's nott'in' but possum up a gum tree.'
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
Den one nigga run an' open de winda,
De moon rush in like fire on a tinder;
De noise soun' plainer, de niggas got fri'ten' -
Dey tink 'twas a mixture ob t'under and litenin'.
Some grate brack mob come cross de medder,
Da kine-a roll demsel's togedder;
But soon dey journ' dis exhalation,
Was nott'in' more dan de niggas from anoder plantation.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
Dese noisy bracks surroun' de dwellin',
While de news one nigga got a-tellin';
De res ob 'em grin to hear ole Quashy
Menshun de name ob Gineral Washy.
He say dat day, in Yorktown Holler,
Massa George cotch ole Cornwaller;
An' seben t'ousand corn off him shell him -
Leff him nott'in' more'n a cob for to tell him.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
He say, 'Den arter all dis 'fusion,
Dat was de en ob de rebolushun;
An nex day all roun' dat quarter,
Dey gwaing for to keep him as dey ort to.'
An dat dare massas 'specially say den,
De niggas mought hab hollowday den;
An dey mout hab rum all day to be quaffin',
All de niggas den buss right out a-laffin'.
Chah! chah! dat de way
De niggas spen' de night an' day.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lancan vei per mei la landa
Lancan vei per mei la landa
dels arbres chazer la fòlha,
ans que.lh frejura s'espanda
ni.l gens termini s'esconda,
m'es bel que si' auzitz mos chans,
qu'estat n' aurai mais de dos ans,
e cové que.n fass' esmenda.
Mout m'es greu que ja reblanda
celeis que vas me s'orgòlha
car si mos cors re.lh demanda,
no.lh platz que mot m'i responda.
Be m'auci mos nescis talans,
car sec d' amor los bels semblans
e no ve c' amors lh' atenda.
Deus, que tot lo mon garanda,
li met' en cor que m'acòlha,
c' a me no te pro vianda
ni negus bes no.m aonda.
Tan sui vas la bela doptans,
per qu' e.m ren a leis merceyans:
si.lh platz, que.m don o que.m venda!
Mal o fara, si no.m manda
venir lai on se despòlha,
qu'eu sia per sa comanda
pres del leih, josta l'esponda,
e.lh traya.ls sotlars be chaussans,
a genolhs e umilians,
si.lh platz que sos pes me tenda.
Faihz es lo vers tot a randa,
si que motz no.i deschapdòlha,
outra la terra normanda,
part la fera mar prionda;
e si.m sui de midons lonhans,
vas se.m tira com azimans
la bela cui Deus defenda.
Si.l reis engles e.l ducs normans
o vol, eu la veira abans
que l'iverns nos sobreprenda.
(parlé)Pel rei sui engles e normans,
e si no fos Mos Azimans,
restera tro part calenda.
(When I see the leaves of the trees fall off in the middle of the fields, before the cold spreads and the good season disappears, it seems good to me that my song be heard, for I have not done so in over two years, and I should atone for that.
It is painful for me to serve still the one who is so haughty towards me, for if my heart demands something of her she doesn't wish to speak even a word. My foolish desire kills me, because it pursues the fair appearance of love, and does not see that love awaits.
May God, who guards the universe, place in her heart a welcome for me, for no food is of benefit to me, and no bounty consoles me. I am so uncertain concerning the fair one that I deliver myself, pleading for mercy, to her. So if she wishes, she can give me away, or sell me.
She would do a wrong if she did not invite me to come to the place where she undresses, so that I may be at her command, next to her, at the edge of the bed, and I would take off her graceful slippers, on my knees and humble, if it pleased her to extend to me her feet.
This poem is perfectly made, without a single badly-made word, beyond the land of Normandy, beyound the wild and deep sea. And although I am far from my lady, I am drawn to her like a magnet, she whom God may protect.
If the English king and the Norman duke wish it, I shall see her before the winter takes us by surprise. By grace of the king I am English, and Norman, and if it were not for My Magnet, I would remain here until after Christmas.)
poem by Bernard de Ventadorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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