A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet VIII
I will sit down awhile in dalliance
With my dead life, and dream that it is young.
My earliest memories have their home in France,
The chestnut woods of Bearn and streams among,
Where first I learned to stammer the French tongue.
Fair ancient France. No railroad insolence
Had mixed her peoples then, and still men clung
Each to his ways, and viewed the world askance.
We, too, as exiles from our northern shore,
Surveyed things sparsely; and my own child's scorn
Remained, how long, a rebel to all lore
Save its lost English, nor was quite o'erborne
Till, as I swore I'd speak no French frog's word,
I swore in French, and so laid down my sword.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes
My Funny Sunny Holiday!
At first, my trip to sunny France
Was simply for some wild romance,
Away from folks at home I'd miss
While some French girl I'd soon kiss-kiss!
So off I flew upon the plane
Till almost reaching Sunny Spain,
But landing still on France's soil,
With temperatures still set to boil!
At dead of night, we all arrived,
Just thanking God, we'd all survived
And from the journey in the coach
Our half-built hotel to approach!
Our rooms sufficed to suit our needs
And I slept well from all these deeds...
When I awoke, the beach called me!
So off I went to sun and sea...
French girls' bikinis here and there
Had made my English eyes to stare!
So many Baywatch fantasies
While I rubbed oil on my knees...
No tan had I on that first day,
That's why nobody came my way!
But that all changed within that week,
My skin all tanned on my physique...
French girls surrounded me in time,
Amazed that I looked so sublime!
I lied about my age and smiled,
Just mesmerised and quite beguiled!
To think, French ladies I'd entrance!
They made my holiday in France!
And yet no matter where I roam,
It's always nice when I get home!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Battle of the Herrings
A fishing action
North of France
1429 took place
Cause of battle
French vs. English
Anticipation/baited breath
River – flat plain
Set up strategy
Hook/line/sinker
British attacked first
French were slow
English bombarded fish
French did not
want to get
their shoes wet
Were most certain
outflanked by British
French counter attacked
Used Brie instead
of slippery worms
Won the fishing
competition – yelled Viva’
la fishermen French
“What was that”?
asked the English
“What’s the matter
with you cockneys
Hard of Herring? ”
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Vive La France!
With echoing effect colourful bon-fires were burning
To celebrate National Day of France in Pondicherry
That kept the crowd in the beach spell bound for long!
The erstwhile colony of France is this French town
Full of European architectural beauty and green park
People like to enjoy by cosmopolitan culture forever!
Most civilised country in the world France preached
Democracy by the famous slogans of Rousseau like
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity India cherishes most!
Bon ami of French culture and international brotherhood
Of India keep both the countries natural friends forever
Flourishing humanism as an example to all world nations!
Vive la France French nationals along with Indians say
To strength the bond between two bon ami forever and ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Two cows deconstruct Derrida
These two cows were ruminating
and one says, I was listening
to the milkmaid’s transistor
and this French philosopher
was explaining that there’s
no English translation of the French word
‘betise’ except ‘stupidity’ but
‘stupidity’ only refers to man
where the French ‘betise’ means
to behave like an animal…
and the other cow says
well what’s wrong with that
and the first cow says
well his point is, English cows
can’t be stupid; only man
can be stupid..
and the other cow says
well that’s a relief then
so does that mean that French cows
can be stupid
and the first cow says
no because they don’t have a word for it
in French
so the other cow says
so then is it better to be
an English cow
that can’t be stupid
or a French cow
that can’t be called stupid
and the first cow says
who cares, I’ve always said
the French ruminate too much
and then talk bullshit…
and the other cow says
I’m glad I’m a Jersey
what about that French milkmaid
I call sexyhands but
the farmer sometimes calls
a silly cow I wonder what
Derrida would say about that
poem by Michael Shepherd
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French, The Language Of Love
French, the Language of Love.
Darling, speak French to me when we make love, wicked words
I don’t understand, but have a whispering meaning of delight.
I stand before you with salutial erection, a soldier of love ready
to sacrifice myself for your subterranean pleasure.
Your wishes have to be expressed in French or the steed’s chase
will not react with proper force, It will think it’s time to go back
into the stable, hanging about, wondering what went wrong.
At the subway in Paris I was in the way of a woman who wanted
to exit, she swore at me, thinking it were words of love, I kissed
her and was arrested. But released, though when they understood
I was a foreigner, lost in the baffling ways of the French idiom.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Poem from a Picture
(Children at play on a French Battlefield)
'When I was a child,'
You shall tell one day,
Children, on these blackened fields
Gallantly at play,
'All the quiet sky
Burst in death aflame;
One day, I was young,
Then . . . The Horror came.'
'When I was a child . . .'
Wind-tossed leaves of war,
Is there childhood still for you,
Wise in horror-lore,
Who have heard your sisters' screams
Shattering your play,
Seen your mothers past their dead
Led to shame away?
Ragged, helpless, maimed,
Hungry, left alone
Where the smoking roof-beams lie
By the wrecked hearth-stone,
Still you mime (child-hearts are strong,
Childhood pain is brief)
Echoes of world-victory,
World-defeat, world-grief!
Dauntless in your rags,
Insolent in mirth,
Laughing with young lips that know
All the griefs of earth,
God, who loves a high heart well,
Will not let you fail–
You are France, who laughs at Hell–
France, who shall prevail!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
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The Young Woman From Paris In France
The one with brown eyes and brown hair her Hometown is Paris in France
She has such a sweet singing voice and to music she loves to dance
She is in her twenty fourth year and happy in her single life
For some very lucky young man she will make a beautiful wife.
Her accent is easy to love like the lilt to a beautiful song
Of her voice one never could tire I'd listen to her all day long
To this Town she's like a breath of fresh air not many French people live here
Except for the rare tourist who stop for a break from travel I meet one perhaps once a year.
She has such an old World charm and she has such a beautiful face
And she doesn't find it hard for to smile a woman of charm and grace
'Twould be nice if here she did settle but in our Town I know she won't stay
The young woman from Paris in France from home she is so far away.
She says she will go home next year in beautiful May of the Spring
In the green parks of Paris in France she will hear the birds whistle and sing
And on the verandah of her old home with family and friends out of the glare of the sunshine
She will sing along in the sing song as she enjoys a glass of good French made wine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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France can never accept that it is no longer a dominating power in the world of culture. This is true both of the French right and the French left. They keep thinking that Americans are primitive cowboys or farmers who do not understand anything.
quote by Adam Michnik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I grew up in France, my first language was French, and I tend to gravitate towards French cooking.
quote by Robert Stack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spanish Lessons
Romantic languages hold the greatest history in my life.
Born into a French speaking home, English remained quite unknown.
In primary school the teachers insisted that French be left home.
Secondary school brought the language of ancient Rome.
French and Latin provided a vocabulary of such richness,
That I found I could think in emotions and speak in images.
Used in everyday conversation produced interesting visages
On the faces of the audience not prepared for linguistic pillages.
Spanish would be a romantic trifecta, and would be of most use.
Latin has continually lost favor since the time of St. Jerome
French while of some use, for me, has not been spoken since home.
This line is of no use, ‘cept I need a rhyme, for example, chrome.
Te amo con todo mi corazón* spoken in a soft lover’s whisper
Provides Spanish a romantic richness and a sensual tone
Warmth and love deep enough to call it my own.
But why take classes at this time in my life?
Tengo que tomar esta clase en este tiempo para ser capaz de apretar dos para muchos de los mensajes telefónicos**
* I love you with all my heart
** I need to take this class at this time to be able to press two for many of the phone messages
World Poem
I am a bluebird that flies around the world.
I am a frog that jumps to Japan.
I am a soccer ball that gets kicked to France.
I am a bluebird that flies around the world.
I am not a bomb that blows up the universe.
I am not a pan that cooks French waffles.
I am not a missile which explodes on contact.
I am not a bomb that blows up the universe.
I am a French fry that jumps around the world.
I am a pancake that flips for joy and happiness.
I am a flower that blows in the north winds and the south winds
I am a French fry that jumps around the world.
I am not a sad potato that flips for sadness.
I am not a black berry which gets destroyed after one strike.
I am not a raspberry which is red for anger.
I am not a sad potato which flips for sadness.
poem by Jake Lesperance
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Eighteenth-Nineteenth Century Verse
France is the country of poems and prose
the lovely French language tells us so.
Romantic love in classical verse
dates back to Voltaire from days long ago.
The 18th century brought poets from Paris
writing about France and the Seine,
and so many other Parisian wonders
that lie in that fertile plain.
Yes France was a country of talent
In England, Wordsworth stole the scene
whilst Coleridge, another fine English poet
wrote lyrical verse about Pastures Green.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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American Boys, Hello!
Oh! we love all the French, and we speak in French
As along through France we go.
But the moments to us that are keen and sweet
Are the ones when our khaki boys we meet,
Stalwart and handsome and trim and neat;
And we call to them-'Boys, hello!'
'Hello, American boys,
Luck to you, and life's best joys!
American boys, hello!'
We couldn't do that if we were at home-
It never would do you know!
For there you must wait till you're told who's who,
And to meet in the way that nice folks do.
Though you knew his name, and your name he knew-
You never would say 'Hello, hello, American boy!'
But here it's just a joy,
As we pass along in the stranger throng,
To call out, 'Boys, hello!'
For each is a brother away from home;
And this we are sure is so,
There's a lonesome spot in his heart somewhere,
And we want him to feel there are friends
right there
In this foreign land, and so we dare
To call out 'Boys, hello!'
'Hello, American boys,
Luck to you, and life's best joys!
American boys, hello!'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The more English is heard in the world, the more gratifying it seems to speak French, and above all to know the culture of our country. They find a kind of French social grace in the language and culture.
quote by Bernard Pivot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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English people don't have very good diction. In France you have to pronounce very particularly and clearly, and learning French at an early age helped me enormously.
quote by Vivien Leigh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I met my wife through playing golf. She is French and couldn't speak English and I couldn't speak French, so there was little chance of us getting involved in any boring conversations - that's why we got married really quickly.
quote by Sean Connery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If French Fries Were Fat Free
Will I need a miss of my life
Each time I went left, I should've gone right
And love's no exception to this rule
Cause I turned around I lost you
Now I'm feeling lonesome and blue
Just the way I expect to
But there's something that I could use
To help me deal with this abuse
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
You know the more I think about you
The more sense it makes
Cause grease and love both cause heartache
So I raise my glass and toast
These things I want the most
Though I probably never see
I can't help but believing
That if French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
Oh if French fries were fat free
And you still love me
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The recent riots in France demonstrate the problem European countries face where second and third generation immigrants still do not consider themselves French, German, or English.
quote by Bobby Jindal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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French women have been made beautiful by the French people - they're very aware of their bodies, the way they move and speak, they're very confident of their sexuality. French society's made them like that.
quote by Charlotte Rampling
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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