Threepenny Pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Happy little feet that dance all day
Lonely little heart with lots to say
Stepping footprints on your mind
Offering thoughts of columbine
Bang the drum and blow the bugle call
Pierrot takes the stage to play for all
For heres a life his fortune rules
Forsaken by his columbine
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
To tap his feet to greet dear harlequin
The hearts of folks so keenly hard to win
A patchwork frame of tears and wine
The nectar for cruel columbine
The part of three and leaves the stage forlorn
Puppets cold, their faces sad and drawn
Relive each trial of rise and fall
The love which lacks between us all
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero . . . . . . threepenny pierrot
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Pierrot
Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his lute he fashions
A fragile silver tune.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
And all the roses know
That Pierrot loves his music, --
But I love Pierrot.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pierrot
I work all day,
Said Simple John,
Myself a house to buy.
I work all day,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot wondered why.
For Pierrrot loved the long white road,
And Pierrot loved the moon,
And Pierrot loved a star-filled sky,
And the breath of a rose in June.
I have one wife,
Said Simple John,
And,faith,I love her yet.
I have one wife,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot left Pierrette.
For Pierrot saw a world of girls,
And Pierrot loved each one,
And Pierrot thought all maidens fair
As flowers in the sun.
Oh, I am good,
Said Simple John,
The Lord will take me in.
Yes, I am good,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot's steeped in sin.
For Pierrot played on a slim guitar,
And Pierrot loved the moon,
And Pierrot ran down the long white road
With the burgher's wife one June.
poem by Langston Hughes
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The Magpie Lark
By lagoons and reedy places,
Where the little river races
By the lips of dreaming pools
Where the soothing water cools
Many a verdant slope and hollow,
Here my blithesome way I follow.
Anywhere that waters glisten
Pause a little while and listen.
You will hear my plaintive note
O'er the placid mirror float
Tho' nought know I of plaint or fret:
'Pierrot! Pierrette! Pierrot! Pierrette!'
Pierrot am I, light hearted fellow,
Be the day morose or mellow;
And pierrette, my dainty wife,
Adopts a like gay view of life;
We dance; we dance amid the sedges,
Dance by duplicated edges
Of the peaceful little ponds;
Now I bow, and she responds;
And then we dance together there,
Rise aloft, and dance on air;
Rising, falling, calling yet:
'Pierrot! Pierrette! Pierrot! Pierrette!'
Thistledown was ne'er so light
As our dainty, dancing flight;
Gay pied pipers, trim and neat;
Joy is in our wings, our feet;
Grace is in our every pose . . .
We dance, we dance till, at day's close,
When the pool's dark mirrors limn
Twilit glory at the brim
Trees and opalescent sky
We dance away; and as we fly
Our call comes faint and fainter yet:
'Pierrot!. Pierrette! .. Pierrot! ...'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Peachum [To the audience]: Something new - that's what we must have. My business is too difficult. You see, my business is trying to arouse human pity. There are few things that'll move people to pity, a few, but the trouble is, when they've been used several times, they no longer work. Human beings have the horrid capacity of being able to make themselves heartless at will. So it happens, for instance, that a man who sees another man on the street corner with only a stump for an arm will be so shocked the first time that he'll give him sixpence. But the second time it'll be only a threepenny bit. And if he sees him a third time, he'll hand him over cold-bloodedly to the police. It's the same with these spiritual weapons.
line from The Threepenny Opera, Act I, Scene 1 by Bertolt Brecht (1928)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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For the villainy of the world is great, and a man has to run his legs off to keep them from being stolen out fom underneath him.
Bertolt Brecht in The Threepenny Opera (1928)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Libation, Cupid, Take
This libation, Cupid, take,
With the lilies at thy feet;
Cherish Pierrot for their sake
Send him visions strange and sweet,
While he slumbers at thy feet.
Only love kiss him awake!
Only love kiss him awake!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Sarah's Key
Kristin Scott Thomas, Melusine Mayance, Niels Arestrup, Frederic Pierrot, Aidan Quinn, Michel Duchaussoy, Dominique Frot, Natasha Mashkevich
from Sarah's Key (2010)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Mirror
Wash your face before your faded make-up makes a mark
The mirror will watch over you
Pierrot never comes so pack your face and chase the dark
The mirrors hung up on you
Dont be last, your friends and your reflection
Its all so direction now
Poor harlequin, youre quite an exception
Fay troubadour, on a downer
Gay harlequin, doesnt believe in you
Doesnt believe its true, such a downer.
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song For Colin
I sang a song at dusking time
Beneath the evening star,
And Terence left his latest rhyme
To answer from afar.
Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
And sighed, "She sings for me."
But Colin slept a careless sleep
Beneath an apple tree.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Dolls
She said: "I am too old to play
With dolls," and put them all away,
Into a box, one rainy day.
I think she must have felt some pain,
She looked so long into the rain,
Then sighed: "I'll bring you out again;
"For I'll have little children too,
With sunny hair and eyes of blue
And they will play and play with you.
"And now good-bye, my pretty dears;
There in the dark for years and years,
Dream of your little mother's tears."
Eglantine, Pierrot and Marie Claire,
Topsy and Tiny and Teddy Bear,
Side by side in the coffer there.
Time went by; one day she kneeled
By a wooden Cross in Flanders Field,
And wept for the One the earth concealed;
And made a vow she would never wed,
But always be true to the deathless dead,
Until the span of her life be sped.
* *
* * *
* *
More years went on and they made her wise
By sickness and pain and sacrifice,
With greying tresses and tired eyes.
And then one evening of weary rain,
She opened the old oak box again,
And her heart was clutched with an ancient pain
For there in the quiet dark they lay,
Just as they were when she put them away...
O but it seemed like yesterday!
Topsy and Tiny and Teddy Bear,
Eglantine, Pierrot and Marie Claire,
Ever so hopefully waiting there.
But she looked at them through her blinding tears,
And she said: "You've been patient, my pretty dears;
You've waited and waited all these years.
"I've broken a promise I made so true;
But my heart, my darlings, is broken too:
No little Mothers have I for you.
"My hands are withered, my hair is grey;
Yet just for a moment I'll try to play
With you as I did that long dead day...
"Ah no, I cannot. I try in vain . . .
I stare and I stare into the rain . . .
I'll put you back in your box again.
"Bless you, darlings, perhaps one day,
Some little Mother will find you and play,
And once again you'll be glad and gay.
"But when in the friendly dark I lie,
No one will ever love you as I . . . .
My little children . . . good-bye . . . good-bye."
poem by Robert William Service
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Fortis Green
Mum would shout and scream when dad would come home drunk
When she asked him where hed been, hed say up the clissold arms
Chatting up some huzzy, but he didnt mean no harm
Sunday morning drives, just to get away
Ramsgate or southend, it would always be a laugh
Paddling by the sea, trousers rolled up to the knees
Walking by the sea, full of dreams, eating ice cream
Grandmas burnt her cheeks getting brown, turn her over
Fortis green, memories of days when I was young
It can only be a memory. a time that now has gone
Theres uncle frank tellin stories from the war
Frightening all the kids, yet wed heard it all before
While the bombs were droppin round, there were parties underground
Aunt lils at the gin, while mums singing songs
From the 40s when variety, max miller was going strong
All the characters are gone, oh, what a blooming shame
I wish that it could be like it was in the old days
Sat on aunties knee, toasting bread in the fire-place
Fortis green, memories of days when I was young
It can only be a memory. a time that now has gone
Memories of fortis green, when I was just a lad
Collecting bottle tops, threepenny bits. fishing with my dad
Sisters in the doorway, snogging with her bloke
Scared to put the cat out case I put him off his stroke
But she wouldnt be denied, I got a shilling as a bribe
I used to do my courting on an old kitchen chair
The girls were all so sporting, but I only really cared for my little katie-sue
There was nothing she wouldnt do
Sunday after tea we would listen to the wireless
Hancocks half-hour, luxembourg. wed sit for hours
Fortis green, memories of days when I was young
It can only be a memory. a time that now has gone
Fortis green, memories of days when I was young
Collecting bottle tops, threepenny bits. fishing with my dad
Thats it
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Carnival Is Over
Say goodbye, my own true lover,
As we sing a lovers song.
How it breaks my heart to leave you,
Now the carnival is gone.
How it breaks my heart to leave you,
Now the carnival is gone.
Say goodbye, my own true lover,
As we sing a lovers song.
How it breaks my heart to leave you,
Now the carnival is gone.
High above, the dawn is waking,
And my tears are falling rain,
For the carnival is over;
We may never meet again.
For the carnival is over;
We may never meet again.
##
##
Like a drum my heart was beating,
And your kiss was sweet as wine.
But the joys of love are fleeting
For pierrot and columbine.
Now the harbour light is calling;
This will be our last goodbye.
Though the carnival is over,
I will love you till I die.
Say goodbye, my own true lover,
As we sing a lovers song.
How it breaks my heart to leave you,
Now the carnival is gone.
Say goodbye, my own true lover,
This will be our last goodbye.
Though the carnival is over,
I will love you till I die.
Though the carnival is over,
I will love you till I die.
Though the carnival is over,
I will love you till I die.
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Will I Find Words
Where will I find words to describe our stroll,
The Chablis on ice, the toasted bread
And the sweet agate of ripe cherries?
Sunset is far off, and the sea resounds with
The splash of bodies, hot and glad for cool dampness.
Your tender look is playful and alluring, -
Like comedy's pretty, pealing nonsense
Or the capricious pen of Marivaux.
Your Pierrot nose and intoxicating lips
Set my mind awhirl like "The Marriage of Figaro."
The spirit of trifles, charming and airy,
Love of nights luxuriant or stifling,
The happy ease of the carefree life!
Ah, a stranger to obedient miracles, I am true
To your flowers, happy land!
poem by Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin
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Ghosts of Mine
Revenant
Running through the spires like ancient ghosts
Leo
Relinquishing the castles for the poor behind the door
Baal Shem
Name and pipe-procession ripened to adopt
Pierrot
Fill the glass-house circus casting the first stone
Bethlehem
Axle-star that fixes love and frankincense
Jonathan
I die of fraternity I publicize a birth
Asquelon
Traces of the sandblind in the path of semite steps
Suleimon
Whispering memorial when drum and kingdom slept
Adam
Embraced of eve and unison upon the broken seal
Revenant
In all my forms original perfect the spectral wheel.
1972
poem by Frank Bana
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The Pierrot's Narrative
'I was a high wire artist with a circus
I kicked my legs in the air, hung over Death
My aunt's a thirteenth cousin to Camilla'
The girl announced. 'I'm terribly well bred.'
`I seen you Saturday last at the supermarket
Fillin shoppers' bags, ' the small boy said.
`My ma says not to believe a word you tell me-
Says you're a crack-pot, not right in the head.'
Off went the girl with a toss of her golden mane
Like a circus lion, melting into a sieve
Her face as white's a Pierrot, lips like thunder
Not every grown up fits her narrative
poem by Sheena Blackhall
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Crocodile Grin
Manitou slides
Doppelgänger silhouette
Ballet prides
Twisted contorted pirouette
Pierrot dolls glare twingingly
Stare wistfully from shaded mottled space
Ventriloquist disgusting tricks
From two deceitful
Face
The magicians hook
Stare garishly
Whilst he wilfully reels in
Audience of ooh faced crowds
Doused in doubt, at just whats
Happening
A rocking horse
It squeaks the boards
With no child on its
Back
And forth to kiddie Hell
Wooden teeth, a glare, a smile, a crack
Puppets is as puppets does
Whilst someone cuts the string
A slumped doll, hair shorn
Skipping rope to swing
The troll which lay beneath the bed
Fumbling hands to grab small feet
Spiders who crawl purposely
To join beneath the sheets
But worst of all, most worst of all, the dreaded curtain smiles
Which changed within a gentle breeze to something thats
Most vile
poem by Karen Sinclair
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A Rule Of The A.J.C.
Come all ye bold trainers attend to my song,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
You mustn't train ponies, for that's very wrong
By the rules of the A.J.C.
You have to wear winkers when crossing the street,
For fear that a pony you'd happen to meet
If you hear one about, you must beat a retreat,
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye bold owners will find without fail
By the rules of the A.J.C.
The jockey boys' fees you must pay at the scale,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
When your horse wins a fiver, you'll laugh, I'll be bound,
But you won't laugh so much by the time that you've found
That the fee to the boy is exactly ten pound!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye bold 'Books' who are keeping a shop,
In the rules of the A.J.C.,
There's a new regulation that says you must stop!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
You must give up your shop with its pipes and cigars
To an unlicensed man who is thanking his stars,
While you go and bet in the threepenny bars,
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye small jockeys who ride in a race,
In the rules of the A.J.C.
If owners' instructions are 'Don't get a place',
By the rules of the A.J.C.,
You must ride the horse out, though, of course, if you do
You will get no more mounts, it's starvation to you.
But, bless you, you'll always find plenty to chew
In the rules of the A.J.C.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clair de Lune
Powder and scent and silence. The young dwarf
Shoulders his lute. The moon is Levantine.
It settles its pearl in every glass of wine.
Harlequin is already at the wharf.
The gallant is masked. A pressure of his thumb
Communicates cutaneous interest.
On the smooth upward swelling of a breast
A small black heart is fixed with spirit gum.
The thieving moment is now. Deftly, Pierrot
Exits, bearing a tray of fruits and coins.
A monkey, chained by his tiny loins,
Is taken aboard. They let their moorings go.
Silence. Even the god shall soon be gone.
Shadows, in their cool, tidal enterprise,
Have eaten away his muscular stone thighs.
Moonlight edges across the empty lawn.
Taffeta whispers. Someone is staring through
The white ribs of the pergola. She stares
At a small garnet pulse that disappears
Steadily seaward. Ah, my dear, it is you.
But you are not alone. A gardener goes
Through the bone light about the dark estate.
He bows, and, cheerfully inebriate,
Admires the lunar ashes of a rose,
And sings to his imaginary loves.
Wait. You can hear him. The familiar notes
Drift toward the old moss-bottomed fishing boats:
“Happy the heart that thinks of no removes.”
This is your nightmare. Those cold hands are yours.
The pain in the drunken singing is your pain.
Morning will taste of bitterness again.
The heart turns to a stone, but it endures.
poem by Anthony Evan Hecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rule of the A.J.C.
Come all ye bold trainers attend to my song,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
You mustn't train ponies, for that's very wrong
By the rules of the A.J.C.
You have to wear winkers when crossing the street,
For fear that a pony you'd happen to meet
If you hear one about, you must beat a retreat --
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye bold owners will find without fail
By the rules of the A.J.C.
The jockey boys' fees you must pay at the scale --
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
When your horse wins a fiver, you'll laugh, I'll be bound,
But you won't laugh so much by the time that you've found
That the fee to the boy is exactly ten pound!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye bold "Books" who are keeping a shop,
In the rules of the A.J.C.,
There's a new regulation that says you must stop!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
You must give up your shop with its pipes and cigars
To an unlicensed man who is thanking his stars,
While you go and bet in the threepenny bars --
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye small jockeys who ride in a race,
In the rules of the A.J.C.
If owners' instructions are "Don't get a place",
By the rules of the A.J.C.,
You must ride the horse out -- though, of course, if you do
You will get no more mounts, it's starvation to you.
But, bless you, you'll always find plenty to chew
In the rules of the A.J.C.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My one and only hero
My hero is the best
He is better than all the rest
My hero doesn’t like to admit
That he is my hero when he dose his little bit
My hero has love and respect
Even he is my prime subject
My hero is always on my mind
Even though he is smart and kind
My hero has a special name
But I can’t tell you it cause it would put him in shame
My hero loves to pull a trick
He is not smart no is he very thick?
My hero makes me smile even though I feel crying
He says 'I will always love you even though I am dyeing'