You sell more herrings on the market than sole.
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The Price Of The Cock
THE PRICE OF THE COCK
A WOMAN STOLE A COCK AND TOOK IT TO THE MARKET TO SELL IT, WHILST AT THE MARKET, SMARTER THIEVES STOLE THE COCK FROM HER AND SHE WENT BACK HOME SOBER!
ON HER ARRIVAL AT HER HOUSE, AN INQUISITIVE NEIGHBOUR ASKED, DEAR NEIGHBOUR, YOUR COCK WHICH YOU TOOK TO THE MARKET, HOW MUCH DID YOU SELL IT? SHE ASKED AND THE SOBER WOMAN REPLIED, IT WAS SOLD FOR EXACTLY THE SAME PRICE FOR WHICH IT WAS BOUGHT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Market Women’s Cries
APPLES
COME buy my fine wares,
Plums, apples and pears.
A hundred a penny,
In conscience too many:
Come, will you have any?
My children are seven,
I wish them in Heaven;
My husband ’s a sot,
With his pipe and his pot,
Not a farthen will gain them,
And I must maintain them.
ONIONS
Come, follow me by the smell,
Here are delicate onions to sell;
I promise to use you well.
They make the blood warmer,
You’ll feed like a farmer;
For this is every cook’s opinion,
No savoury dish without an onion;
But, lest your kissing should be spoiled,
Your onions must be thoroughly boiled:
Or else you may spare
Your mistress a share,
The secret will never be known:
She cannot discover
The breath of her lover,
But think it as sweet as her own.
HERRINGS
Be not sparing,
Leave off swearing.
Buy my herring
Fresh from Malahide,
Better never was tried.
Come, eat them with pure fresh butter and mustard,
Their bellies are soft, and as white as a custard.
Come, sixpence a dozen, to get me some bread,
Or, like my own herrings, I soon shall be dead.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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The Sailor and the Market Man
'I ask you to see reason'
Says the sailor who is stern;
'You know full well that from the sea
A living I must earn;
I'll bother you to shake on it,
I haven't got all day;
Come on now make your mind up,
It ain't a lot to pay! '
'My friend, your price is far too high'
The market-man declares,
'Go find another buyer now
Who'll rid you of your wares.
I know the fish you bring to sell
Are fat and fresh and sound,
But I must make a living too
By watching every pound.'
The sailor and the market-man
They argue every day,
As if there's no tomorrow,
And each must have his say.
The sailor and the market-man
At odds they'll always be,
Until they've taken all
The little fishes from the sea.
Written Dec 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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The Wooing
A YOUTH went faring up and down,
Alack and well-a-day.
He fared him to the market town,
Alack and well-a-day.
And there he met a maiden fair,
With hazel eyes and auburn hair;
His heart went from him then and there,
Alack and well-a-day.
She posies sold right merrily,
Alack and well-a-day;
But not a flower was fair as she,
Alack and well-a-day.
He bought a rose and sighed a sigh,
'Ah, dearest maiden, would that I
Might dare the seller too to buy!'
Alack and well-a-day.
She tossed her head, the coy coquette,
Alack and well-a-day.
'I'm not, sir, in the market yet,'
Alack and well-a-day.
'Your love must cool upon a shelf;
Tho' much I sell for gold and pelf,
I'm yet too young to sell myself,'
Alack and well-a-day.
The youth was filled with sorrow sore,
Alack and well-a-day;
And looked he at the maid once more,
Alack and well-a-day.
Then loud he cried, 'Fair maiden, if
Too young to sell, now as I live,
You're not too young yourself to give,'
Alack and well-a-day.
The little maid cast down her eyes,
Alack and well-a-day,
And many a flush began to rise,
Alack and well-a-day.
'Why, since you are so bold,' she said,
'I doubt not you are highly bred,
So take me!' and the twain were wed,
Alack and well-a-day.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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O Sole Mio
With pavarotti
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole,
Naria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe llaria fresca pare gi na festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole.
Ma natu sole
Cchi bello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne,
Me vene quase na malincunia;
Sotto a fenesta toia restarria
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne.
Ma natu sole
Cchi bello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Sole Mio
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole,
Naria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe llaria fresca pare gina festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole.
Ma natu sole
Cchibello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne,
Me vene quase na malincunia;
Sotto a fenesta toia restarria
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne.
Ma natu sole
Cchibello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But you have to be creative on how you sell yourself and market yourself.
quote by Talib Kweli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You will sell more sheepskins at the market than wolfskins.
Buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest.
Buy good quality and sell at the market price.
Call someone your lord and he'll sell you in the slave market.
Market Square
I had a penny,
A bright new penny,
I took my penny
To the market square.
I wanted a rabbit,
A little brown rabbit,
And I looked for a rabbit
'Most everywhere.
For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender
("Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't want lavender?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I had a penny,
And I had another penny,
I took my pennies
To the market square.
I did want a rabbit,
A little baby rabbit,
And I looked for rabbits
'Most everywhere.
And I went to the stall where they sold fresh mackerel
("Now then! Tuppence for a fresh-caught mackerel!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't like mackerel?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I found a sixpence,
A little white sixpence.
I took it in my hand
To the market square.
I was buying my rabbit
I do like rabbits),
And I looked for my rabbit
'Most everywhere.
So I went to the stall where they sold fine saucepans
("Walk up, walk up, sixpence for a saucepan!").
"Could I have a rabbit, 'cos we've got two saucepans?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.
I had nuffin',
No, I hadn't got nuffin',
So I didn't go down
To the market square;
But I walked on the common,
The old-gold common...
And I saw little rabbits
'Most everywhere!
So I'm sorry for the people who sell fine saucepans,
I'm sorry for the people who sell fresh mackerel,
I'm sorry for the people who sell sweet lavender,
'Cos they haven't got a rabbit, not anywhere there!
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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No use crying at the market, sell your fur coat and drink the money.
One sole God; One sole ruler, — his Law; One sole interpreter of that law — Humanity.
quote by Giuseppe Mazzini
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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There's no such thing as 'hard sell' and 'soft sell.' There's only 'smart sell' and 'stupid sell.'
quote by Leo Burnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The time horizon may be too long for sole reliance on market solutions - but perhaps the inventiveness of the financial services industry will prove me wrong that point!
quote by John Bruton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When good news about the market hits the front page of the New York Times, sell.
quote by Bernard Baruch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain With An Anguish
A pain with an anguish,
Comes to be delivered...
And no matter what the language.
A pain with an anguish,
To be extinguished...
Comes!
Choices given to make decisions,
Have been thoroughly observed.
And...
Witnessed to conflict with wishes,
To have a peace on Earth.
As this Earth was created to serve.
But...
Many believed their greeding,
Was just for them this creation made.
And with an isolating themselves away,
Few have realized their mistakes.
People talk about entitlements.
With a choice to choose their own interests.
But their own interests just don't sit well...
With THAT passing judgements from a greater realm.
A pain and anguish,
Comes to those evils done.
Oh yes a...
Pain with an anguish,
Comes to undo what those demons done.
Producing as a reason to sell.
Pain and anguish,
Comes to those evils done.
No one living doing things to others...
Can hide what they've done and run.
A pain and anguish,
Comes to those evils done.
Oh yes a...
Pain with an anguish,
Comes to undo what those demons done.
Producing as a reason to sell.
Pain with an anguish,
Produced as a reason to sell.
Will soon...
Have no market or a need,
As minds begin to heal from a hell.
A pain with an anguish...
Produced as a reason to sell.
Will soon...
Have no market or a need,
As minds begin to heal from a hell.
Pray!
To deliver your mind from a living hell.
Pray!
To...
Deliver your mind from a living hell.
Pray!
To deliver your mind from a living hell.
Pray!
To...
Deliver your mind from a living hell.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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