If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilized.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Irish-English
Having stolen all the goods and gone,
The English are back in Ireland
Seeking the good of man
In folksong of the past.
Irish in acadamia
Have left the country behind
Preferring to live where the air comes in,
Leave the stench to the English mind.
It's neither one thing nor another
But a blend that works the best.
But when it comes to English-Irish
The latter think the opposite's blessed.
Living by the nostrils the Irish whiff the past,
'The English they can have it. By the future we are cast.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Luck Of The Irish
Ok, one, two, three, one two, three
If you had the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
A thousand years of torture and hunger,
Drove the people away from their land.
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands!
Goddamned!
Goddamned!
If you could keep voices like flowers,
There's be shamrock all over the world.
If you could drink dreams like irish streams,
Then the world would be as high as the mountain of morn.
In the 'pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land.
Of the pain and the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland.
If we could make chains with the morning dew,
The world would be like galway bay.
Let's walk over rainbows like leprechauns,
The world would be one big blarney stone.
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with god on their side!
Blame it all on the kids and the i.r.a.
As the bastards commit genocide!
Aye! aye!
Genocide!
Okay!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
One more time!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead,
Hey, yes, you'd wish you were english instead.
- "thank you!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taxation is the price we pay for failing to build a civilized society. The higher the tax level, the greater the failure. A centrally planned totalitarian state represents a complete defeat for the civilized world, while a totally voluntary society represents its ultimate success.
quote by Mark Skousen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The civilized society
I am in a civilized society.
No outlet for hatred.
So I watch violence in movies.
No outlet for libido
So I watch blue films.
I am in a civilized society.
08.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Luck Of The Irish
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you were dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
A thousand years of torture and hunger
Drove the people away from their land
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands! goddamn! goddamn!
If you could keep voices like flowers
Thered be shamrock all over the world
If you could drink dreams like irish streams
Then the world would be high as the mountain of morn
In the pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land
Of the pain, the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland
If we could make chains with the morning dew
The world would be like galway bay
Lets walk over rainbows like leprechauns
The world would be one big blarney stone
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with God on their side
Blame it all on the kids the ira
As the bastards commit genocide! aye! aye! genocide!
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you was dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
Yes youd wish you was english instead!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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WHO WILL TEACH THE CHILDREN? (rated 24)
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Who Will Teach The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
So I Ask You...What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the corner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Don't Forget Them...
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Finglish
I am from Finland and i speak 'Finglish'!
Because i am learning the English language and,
It always infuses with my Finnish.
I am learning to keep me going but,
I do speak my English like 'Finglish'! !
And i always try to enforce the truth of my peace like,
The subconscious act from my mind to muse up things:
But i am unaware of your love.
Try to keep me informed on this love and,
Try to teach me the English language so that i cam be with you;
For the heavens and the earth do know how i do speak.
Keep me on the tracks of your love and teach me more!
For one day i will learn the English language very well;
And i will be ready to teach you my Finnish language as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irish Blood, English Heart
Irish blood, English heart
this I'm made of
there is no one on earth
I'm afraid of
and no regime
can buy or sell me
I've been dreaming of a time when
to be English
is not to be baneful
to be standing by the flag not feeling
shameful, racist or partial
Irish blood, English heart
this I'm made of
there is no one on earth
I'm afraid of
and I will die
with both my hands untied
I've been dreaming of a time when
the English are sick to death of Labour
and Tories
and spit upon the name Oliver Cromwell
and denounce this royal line that still
salute him / and will salute him forever
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Teachers
Sometimes I can see
When I teach
Half my children talk
Each to each.
Then I almost wish
I could be
Very fierce and they
Scared of me.
They will all be still
For one man
Who could never teach
As I can.
He is kind and strong,
Narrow-souled.
He has never sought
Dangerous gold.
If he might do both
That were good.
In my life I knew
One who could.
She was dark and sweet,
Irish born,
Very full of dreams,
Full of scorn.
Hell and heav'n was she,
Like the sun.
My dear children need
Such a one.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Listen
Listen to the vines with the thorns
For they are the tricksters
Listen to their wisdom
Listen to the trees
For they are the sages
Listen to them whisper their knowledge in your ear
Listen to the leaves
For they are the talkers
Listen to them talk
Listen to the stream
for it is the dreamer
Listen to its dreams
Listen to mother nature
For she is their mother
Listen with her for she is your mother too
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Everything that we inherit, the rain, the skies, the speech, and anybody who works in the English language in Ireland knows that there's the dead ghost of Gaelic in the language we use and listen to and that those things will reflect our Irish identity.
quote by John McGahern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Green Above The Red
Full often when our fathers saw the Red above the Green,
They rose in rude but fierce array, with sabre, pike and scian,
And over many a noble town, and many a field of dead,
They proudly set the Irish Green above the English Red.
But in the end throughout the land, the shameful sight was seen-
The English Red in triumph high above the Irish Green;
But well they died in breach and field, who, as their spirits fled,
Still saw the Green maintain its place above the English Red.
And they who saw, in after times, the Red above the Green
Were withered as the grass that dies beneath a forest screen;
Yet often by this healthy hope their sinking hearts were fed,
That, in some day to come, the Green should flutter o'er the Red.
Sure 'twas for this Lord Edward died, and Wolfe Tone sunk serene-
Because they could not bear to leave the Red above the Green;
And 'twas for this that Owen fought, and Sarsfield nobly bled-
Because their eyes were hot to see the Green above the Red.
So when the strife began again, our darling Irish Green
Was down upon the earth, while high the English Red was seen;
Yet still we held our fearless course, for something in us said,
'Before the strife is o'er you'll see the Green above the Red.'
And 'tis for this we think and toil, and knowledge strive to glean,
That we may pull the English Red below the Irish Green,
And leave our sons sweet Liberty, and smiling plenty spread
Above the land once dark with blood-the Green above the Red!
The jealous English tyrant now has banned the Irish Green,
And forced us to conceal it like a something foul and mean;
But yet, by Heavens! he'll sooner raise his victims from the dead
Than force our hearts to leave the Green, and cotton to the Red!
We'll trust ourselves, for God is good, and blesses those who lean
On their brave hearts, and not upon an earthly king or queen;
And, freely as we lift our hands, we vow our blood to shed
Once and for evermore to raise the Green above the Red.
poem by Thomas Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The attainment of a just society is the cherished hope of civilized men.
quote by Pierre Trudea
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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for Mr. Ron Mengzi
there is no one in his house
in the tropics who really know how to speak English
so he tries making monologues for himself
talking about his latest affairs
but it gets boring you know
and those in the neighborhood who hear
that he is talking to himself
think that he must have gone crazy
i want to talk to him but i am busy
always busy he complains
for i am the only who knows how to talk in English
but i am busy and so one day
Mr. Ron Mengzi walks towards the pond
and talks to the fish that he brought
from California
and there he had a nice English conversation
with the fish
all in figurative and
codified bubbles.
Some people who read this
do not think about Mr. Ron Mengzi at ll
They now talk about me
asking about my own sanity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Green Above The Red
AIR--_Irish Molly O!_
I.
Full often when our fathers saw the Red above the Green,
They rose in rude but fierce array, with sabre, pike and _scian_,
And over many a noble town, and many a field of dead,
They proudly set the Irish Green above the English Red.
II.
But in the end throughout the land, the shameful sight was seen--
The English Red in triumph high above the Irish Green;
But well they died in breach and field, who, as their spirits fled,
Still saw the Green maintain its place above the English Red.
III.
And they who saw, in after times, the Red above the Green
Were withered as the grass that dies beneath a forest screen;
Yet often by this healthy hope their sinking hearts were fed,
That, in some day to come, the Green should flutter o'er the Red.
IV.
Sure 'twas for this Lord Edward died, and Wolfe Tone sunk serene--
Because they could not bear to leave the Red above the Green;
And 'twas for this that Owen fought, and Sarsfield nobly bled--
Because their eyes were hot to see the Green above the Red.
V.
So when the strife began again, our darling Irish Green
Was down upon the earth, while high the English Red was seen;
Yet still we held our fearless course, for something in us said,
'Before the strife is o'er you'll see the Green above the Red.'
VI.
And 'tis for this we think and toil, and knowledge strive to glean,
That we may pull the English Red below the Irish Green,
And leave our sons sweet Liberty, and smiling plenty spread
Above the land once dark with blood--_the Green above the Red_!
VII.
The jealous English tyrant now has banned the Irish Green,
And forced us to conceal it like a something foul and mean;
But yet, by Heavens! he'll sooner raise his victims from the dead
Than force our hearts to leave the Green, and cotton to the Red!
VIII.
We'll trust ourselves, for God is good, and blesses those who lean
On their brave hearts, and not upon an earthly king or queen;
And, freely as we lift our hands, we vow our blood to shed
Once and for evermore to raise the Green above the Red.
poem by Thomas Osborne Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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