La Leçon de Piano
Pierre, I am playing arpeggios
Mama can't afford two lessons
She bought you a football kit
So you could kick and sweat and be a boy
Pierre, you're such a Gruffalo
So jealous of even a trifle
I'm sure you were adopted
You're such an oaf!
Pierre, on you a music lesson's wasted
Look at your hands, two nut-hard knobbly fists
Whereas mine, dear brother are delicate and slender
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
C'est La Vie
(chuck berry)
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished them well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to slow you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room roebuck sale
The coolerator was crammed
With t.v. dimmers and ginger ale
But when pierre found work
The little money comin' worked out well
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rockin' rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney
T'was a cherry-red fifty nine
They drove it down to new orleans
To celebrate their anniversary
It was there that pierre
Was wedded to the lovely mad'moiselle
"c'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(You Never Can Tell) C'est Lavie
(Chuck Berry)
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished them well
You could see that Pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to slow you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room Roebuck sale
The coolerator was crammed
With T.V. dimmers and ginger ale
But when Pierre found work
The little money comin' worked out well
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rockin' rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
they bought a souped-up jitney
T'was a cherry-red fifty nine
They drove it down to New Orleans
To celebrate their anniversary
It was there that Pierre
Was wedded to the lovely mad'moiselle
"C'est la vie", say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pierre The Penquin
'I have just been swimming to catch my fish. I have 3, I love fish it is absolutely delicious, I don’t want them cooked, I can’t see the sense in that, I will eat them raw one by one and savor every bite. They are cold and slippery to slide down my throat. I will eat my fish first, then I might go for another swim, or I might go for a snooze for a while.'
Who knows?
Pierre the penguin has just been swimming,
to catch his evening meal.
He does not need a boat for this,
or a rod or reel.
He can swim very fast,
and catch his fish quite easily.
Pierre is well equipped for this,
has you all can see.
He has a flipper on each leg,
that makes him very strong.
So, when he goes swimming,
he can stay out there quite long.
The fish are cold and slippery,
to slide down Pierre's throat.
The oil in the fish,
gives Pierre his lovely coat.
After his meal,
he might go for another swim,
or he might go for a snooze.
Which one do you think,
Pierre, should really choose?
poem by Pamela lutwyche
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Damn it, Pierre, what do you want me to do We'll go sit with empty chairs to get those guys back to the table. (To Pierre Trudeau, prime minister of Canada)
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cest La Vie
Words and music by chuck berry
It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They finished off an apartment with a two-room roebuck sale
The coolerator was jammed with tv dinners and ginger ale
And when pierre found work, the little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie say the old folks it goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono, boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records, all blues, rock, rhythm, and jazz
But when the sun went down, the volume went down as well
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney, it was a cherry red 53
And drove it down to new orleans to celebrate their anniversary
It was there where pierre was wedded to the lovely mademoiselle
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They had a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Never Can Tell
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room roebuck sale
The coolerator was filled
With t.v. dinners and ginger ale
But when pierre found work,
The little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy, did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rock, rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They bought a souped up jitney
twas a cherry in fifty-three
They drove it down to new orleans
To celebrate their anniversary.
It was there where pierre was wedded
To the lovely mademoiselle,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The only one who is alive today and still being talked about is Pierre Cardin.
quote by Pierre Cardin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is after you have lost your teeth that you can afford to buy steaks.
quote by Pierre Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deux voix dans le ciel
(extrait)
Le bleu matin dorait l'herbe dans les fossés ;
Les froids tombeaux, devant le porche de l'église,
Dormaient. Au coin du bois Pierre rencontra Lise,
Et lui dit : - Viens. - Où donc ? - Au bois. - je ne veux pas.
Les moissonneurs prenaient à l'ombre leur repas ;
Les gais pinsons jouaient sur les pierres des tombes.
- Oh ! là-bas, sur ce toit, vois toutes ces colombes !
Dit-elle ; et Pierre dit : - C'est chez moi qu'on les voit.
Viens les voir. J'ai ma chambre au bord de ce vieux toit.
J'ai chez moi la colombe et sa soeur l'hirondelle.
Tu pourras dans tes mains les prendre. - Vrai ? dit-elle,
Dans mes mains ? - Dans tes mains ! Viens-tu ? - Je n'ose pas.
Le sentier, complaisant ou traître, pas à pas,
Les mena tous les deux, pensifs, vers la chaumière.
Tout le long du chemin Lise avait peur de Pierre.
Pierre dit : - C'est ici. - Dans l'escalier étroit
Leurs souffles se mêlaient. Les colombes du toit,
Les entendant venir, fuirent à tire-d'aile.
- Où donc est la colombe ? où donc est l'hirondelle ?
Dit Lise ; et Pierre dit tout bas : - Ô ma beauté,
Les oiseaux sont partis, mais l'amour est resté.
Des roses emplissaient ce nid d'une odeur d'ambre ;
Elle entra rougissante... -
poem by Victor Hugo
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Little Pierre's Song
In a humble room in London sat a pretty little boy,
By the bedside of his sick mother her only joy,
Who was called Little Pierre, and who's father was dead;
There he sat poor boy, hungry and crying for bread.
There he sat humming a little song, which was his own,
But to the world it was entirely unknown,
And as he sang the song he felt heartsick,
But he resolved to get Madame Malibran to sing his song in public
Then he paused for a moment and clasped his hands,
And running to the looking-glass before it he stands,
Then he smoothed his yellow curls without delay,
And from a tin box takes a scroll of paper worn and grey.
Then he gave one fond eager glance at his mother,
Trying hard brave boy his grief to smother,
As he gazed on the bed where she lay,
But he resolved to see Madame Malibran without delay.
Then he kissed his mother while she slept,
And stealthily from the house he crept,
And direct to Madame Malibran's house he goes,
Resolved to see her no matter who did him oppose.
And when he reached the door he knocked like a brave gallant
And the door was answered by her lady servant,
Then he told the servant Madame Malibran he wished to see
And the servant said, oh yes, I'll tell her immediately.
Then away the servant goes quite confident,
And told her a little boy wished to see her just one moment
Oh! well, said Madame Malibran, with a smile,
Fetch in the little boy he will divert me a while.
So Little Pierre was broght in with his hat under his arm
And in his hand a scroll of paper, thinking it no harm,
Then walked straight up to Madame Malibran without dread
And said, dear lady my mother is sick and in want of bread.
And I have called to see if you would sing my little song,
At someof your grand concerts, Ah! Say before long,
Or perhaps you could sell it to a publisher for a small sum,
Then I could buy food for my mother and with it would run.
Then Madame Malibran rose from her seat most costly and grand
And took the scroll of paper from Pierre's hand
And hummed his little song, to a plaintive air,
Then said, your song is soul stirring I do declare.
Dear child did you compose the words she asked Pierre,
Oh yes my dear lady just as you see,
Well my dear boy I will sing your song to-night,
And you shall have a seat near me on the right.
Then Pierre, said, Oh! lady I cannot leave my mother,
But my dear boy, as for her you need not bother,
So dear child don't be the least cast down,
And in the meantime here is a crown.
And for your mother you can buy food and medicine,
So run away and be at the concert to-night in time
Then away he ran and bought many little necessary things
And while doing so his little song he hums and sings.
Then home to his poor sick mother he quickly ran,
And told her of his success with Madame Malibran,
Then his mother cried, Oh! Pierre, you are a very good boy,
And to hear of your success my heart is full of joy.
Dear mother, I am going to the concert hall to-night,
To hear Madame Malibran, which will my heart delight,
Oh! well said his mother, God speed you my little man,
I hope you will be delighted to hear Madame Malibran.
So to the concert hall he goes, and found a seat there,
And the lights and flashing of diamonds made him stare,
And caused a joyous smile to play upon his face,
For never had he been in so grand a place.
There the brave boy sat and Madame Malibran came at last
And with his eyes rivetted on her he sared aghast,
And to hear her sing, Oh! how he did long,
And he wondered if the lady would really sing his song.
At last the great singer commenced his little song,
And many a heart was moved and the plaudits loud and long
And as she sang it Pierre clapped his hands for joy.
That he felt as if it were free from the world's annoy.
When the concert was over his heart felt as light as the air
And as for money now he didn't seem to care,
Since the great singer in Europe had sung his little song,
But he hoped that dame fortune would smile on him ere long
The next day he was frightened by a visit from Madame Malibran
And turning to his mother, she said your little boy Madame
Will make a fortune for himself and you before long,
Because I've been offered a large sum for his little song.
And Madame thank God you have such a gifted son,
But dear Madame heavens will must be done,
Then Pierre knelt and prayed that God would the lady bless
For helping them in the time of their distress.
And the memory of Pierre's prayer made the singer do more good
By visiting the poor and giving them clothing and food
And Pierre lightened her last moments ere her soul fled away
And he came to be one of the most talented composers of the day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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My sister and my brother, of whom I have not spoken before, were considerably older than I; it seemed almost as if we belonged to different generations.
quote by Pierre Loti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of the problems with a candidate like Bob Kennedy, and his brother before him, was that people assumed they didn't need contributions.
quote by Pierre Salinger
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Radium could be very dangerous in criminal hands.
quote by Pierre Curie
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Has it struck you that the music which is regarded as the most sublime in western civilization, which is the music of Bach, is called baroque?
quote by Pierre Schaeffer
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Graveyard [2]
(after Jean Pierre Rawie)
In a whirlpool of emotions
I stand at the grave,
half full of grief with the tender remembering
of things that went wrong,
somewhat ashamed that things had not been different
and the strangeness is startling,
I am astonished by other persons
for whom tears come so easily,
about how meaningless life is,
about how death touches caring,
about how the final farewell
drives love to its limit.
[Reference: "Kerkhof" (Graveyard) by the Dutch poet Jean Pierre Rawie.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Painting and music were the only things I worked at industriously and faithfully.
quote by Pierre Loti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wreck of the "Julie Plante": A Legend of Lac St. Pierre
1 On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre,
2 De win' she blow, blow, blow,
3 An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante"
4 Got scar't an' run below—
5 For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
6 Bimeby she blow some more,
7 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre
8 Wan arpent from de shore.
9 De captinne walk on de fronte deck,
10 An' walk de hin' deck too—
11 He call de crew from up de hole,
12 He call de cook also.
13 De cook she 's name was Rosie,
14 She come from Montreal,
15 Was chambre maid on lumber barge,
16 On de Grande Lachine Canal.
17 De win' she blow from nor' -eas' -wes',--
18 De sout' win' she blow too,
19 W'en Rosie cry, "Mon cher captinne,
20 Mon cher, w'at I shall do ?"
21 Den de captinne t'row de beeg ankerre,
22 But still de scow she dreef,
23 De crew he can't pass on de shore,
24 Becos' he los' hees skeef.
25 De night was dark lak wan black cat,
26 De wave run high an' fas',
27 W'en de captinne tak' de Rosie girl
28 An' tie her to de mas'.
29 Den he also tak' de life preserve,
30 An' jomp off on de lak',
31 An' say, "Good-bye, ma Rosie dear,
32 I go drown for your sak'."
33 Nex' morning very early
34 'Bout ha'f-pas' two—t'ree—four—
35 De captinne—scow—an' de poor Rosie
36 Was corpses on de shore,
37 For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
38 Bimeby she blow some more,
39 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre,
40 Wan arpent from de shore.
MORAL
41 Now all good wood scow sailor man
42 Tak' warning by dat storm
43 An' go an' marry some nice French girl
44 An' leev on wan beeg farm.
45 De win' can blow lak hurricane
46 An' s'pose she blow some more,
47 You can't get drown on Lac St. Pierre
48 So long you stay on shore.
poem by William Henry Drummond
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The moment at which music reveals its true nature is contained in the ancient exercise of the theme with variations. The complete mystery of music is explained right there.
quote by Pierre Schaeffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I still went to church regularly every Sunday; that is we all went there together. I reverenced the family pew where we had assembled for so many years; and apart from that reason I hold it dear because it is associated in my memory with my mother.
quote by Pierre Loti
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In contrast, traditional classical music starts from an abstract musical schema. This is then notated and only expressed in concrete sound as a last stage, when it is performed.
quote by Pierre Schaeffer
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