One homie, two homie, three homie, four
A homie ain't a man til a b***h begs for more
Five homie, six homie, seven homie, eight
A homie isn't done til a b***h's ass is ate
water, oh sweet water
flowing to and fro
the smell of blooming trees
and the fireflies a-glow
water, oh sweet water
the beauty of nature behold
watching on a mountain top
sunrise shines like gold
Do not waste your breath on me, for when we finally meet - I will be long gone. All that will remain will be but a relic of my past self. Do not cherish it - for that is not me.
Sur les rives d'Alphée, les pâtres vont au soir
S'enivrer du parfum des daphnés et des menthes,
Le regard dans les nues, en espérant y voir
L'étincelle des yeux de leurs blondes amantes.
Couronnées de luzerne en fleur et en boutons,
Écoutant la syringe aux musiques dormantes
Et le pipeau des bois aux changeants demi-tons
Épancher au ciel leur rustique harmonie,
Les belles sont couchées à l'aire où les moutons
Paissent mystiquement la nature infinie.
Thanks, it will definitely be better when I complete and revise the poem. Unfortunately, French publishing doesn't like classical poetry and I don't know if there is an audience of readers so I don't know what I will do with it.
When will your translation of the Comedy be published anon? From the snippets you post every now and then, I'd say your translation will be better than most. I might even buy it
I finished the text at the beginning of this year; haven't finished the notes. I doubt I will find an IRL publisher. Might just throw the pdf out there but once I do that there's no chance at all of making any money out of it, so dunno.
In the heart of a dried basin
Children played with the bones of ancestors
Flinging with purpose, a game being played
Only to discard, caked with dust
The spirits observed, quarrelled
Over consequences they would deliver
The nauseating gravity of childlike behavior
The rain came, the children scattered
Leaving the bones where they lie
As the tears fell
The bones, submerged in mud
Returned to the Earth
Once again to be neglected
Once again be forgotten
Once again to find oblivion
So the spirits wept
I kneel
I squeal
My headcanon isn't real
I cope
I mope
Someone hand me a rope
I sin
I never win
I belong in a trash bin
I job
I'm a slob
I'm too short
To reach the doorknob
I smell like a trashbag
My wife's an old hag
I am... a Vegeta fan
The poor Black person on the wall. Look at him.
Look at the poor Black person. Look at the poor Black person... on... the...wall.
Frick him... Frick the Black person on the wall.
Black man...is...de...debil?
Jamhuri ya Kidemokrasia ya Kongo
https://voca.ro/1oEJGkLZ4E65
One homie, two homie, three homie, four
A homie ain't a man til a b***h begs for more
Five homie, six homie, seven homie, eight
A homie isn't done til a b***h's ass is ate
-ობა
https://voca.ro/1hfzk9rQNdYY
water, oh sweet water
flowing to and fro
the smell of blooming trees
and the fireflies a-glow
water, oh sweet water
the beauty of nature behold
watching on a mountain top
sunrise shines like gold
https://voca.ro/178Dy93uVS8t
I like that anon. Going to save it on my phone if you don’t mind.
Save it, it's all yours my friend 🙂
Do not waste your breath on me, for when we finally meet - I will be long gone. All that will remain will be but a relic of my past self. Do not cherish it - for that is not me.
The beginning of a poem I haven't finished yet:
Sur les rives d'Alphée, les pâtres vont au soir
S'enivrer du parfum des daphnés et des menthes,
Le regard dans les nues, en espérant y voir
L'étincelle des yeux de leurs blondes amantes.
Couronnées de luzerne en fleur et en boutons,
Écoutant la syringe aux musiques dormantes
Et le pipeau des bois aux changeants demi-tons
Épancher au ciel leur rustique harmonie,
Les belles sont couchées à l'aire où les moutons
Paissent mystiquement la nature infinie.
https://voca.ro/1oj18hYjSdBX
Anon please stop
10/10
https://voca.ro/132P6fbvFuqt
i'm drunk
I read it as it should be read with the rules of French versification https://voca.ro/160ZVhVHfz0F
The pronunciation has qualities, what is your native language?
That's actually a quite based poem. Well done anon
Thanks, it will definitely be better when I complete and revise the poem. Unfortunately, French publishing doesn't like classical poetry and I don't know if there is an audience of readers so I don't know what I will do with it.
пocтpижeниѥ
https://voca.ro/1j3yfjIet2yo
When will your translation of the Comedy be published anon? From the snippets you post every now and then, I'd say your translation will be better than most. I might even buy it
I finished the text at the beginning of this year; haven't finished the notes. I doubt I will find an IRL publisher. Might just throw the pdf out there but once I do that there's no chance at all of making any money out of it, so dunno.
Sleep, America.
Silence is a warm bed.
Sleep your nightmares of small
cries cut open now
in the secret places of
Black Land, Bamboo City.
Sleep tight, America
dogtags eating sweatgrimaced
TV-people
Five O'clock news: My son the Meat.
Laughing scars, huh?
Novocained fist.
Squeeze every window empty
then hum.
Fear only the natural unreality
and kiss nostalgia goodbye.
Bayonet teddy bear and snore.
Bad dreams are something you ate.
So sleep, you mother.
https://voca.ro/1fY1KYEStUnq
This might be the worst thread I've ever seen on any board ever.
https://voca.ro/1eeSs5bMKVdu
feel free to correct the spelling error.
https://voca.ro/1ibQ7BBUMKBa
selvhad
κι έζησαν αυτοί καλά κι εμείς καλύτερα
https://voca.ro/14qW2nsS9BEY
ܡܠܐܟܐ
https://voca.ro/1yBX7FwNlTZa
I was pleased to have someone read my poetry but now I'm even more pleased to have someone not read it.
Amazing thread, anon
ádhúil
https://voca.ro/1brtFcjsqRaJ
la nuit me parait si pâle
là n'y parait qu'une flame
dans ce ciel aux étincelles
qui la rend encore plus belle
https://voca.ro/1k5gkj90C8UH
you made honor to my poem thx
Xuě huā piāo piāo běi fēng xiāo xiāo
Tiān dì yí piàn cāng máng
Yì jiǎn hán méi ào lì xuě zhōng
Zhǐ wéi yī rén piāo xiāng
Ài wǒ suǒ ài wú yuàn wú huǐ
Cǐ qíng cháng liú xīn jiān
https://voca.ro/1iC5nNSDkkEq
wachthuis
pana
یا لَیتَ قَبْلَ مَنِیَّتِي یَوْماً أَفوزُ بمُنْیَتِي
نَهْراً تُلاطِمُ رُکْبَتِي وأَظَلُّ إمْلاءُ قِرْبَتِي
https://voca.ro/16AZFWlSVdYO
If this is your first attempt at pronouncing Arabic, I'm damn impressed
https://vocaroo.com/1a30nDl4A4lY
I've spent around two years studying Arabic grammar, never had the chance to practice it in real life
pick up truck with sticker dogs
antique tires rough on roads
copper rims old with rust
drive in diner pick up bawds
copper doesn't rust moron
Nate prodund or clorely saundered,
He cleats the meat up high and morpid.
The batter het to sly malignment
A scattered fry: his dine, we prylent.
O dear deligned! O dorley wise!
A smook or smock you'll sooden stine.
Aclamity! Nine follen plat.
A misten gort shall kellerat.
https://voca.ro/1bPUzH7ohGPs
Incredible, thank you.
Giuseppe, da barber, he maka da eye,
An' lika da steam engine puffa a sigh,
For catcha Carlotta w'en she ees go by.
Carlotta she walka weeth nose in da air,
An' look through Giuseppe weeth far-away stare,
As eef she no see dere ees som'body dere.
In the heart of a dried basin
Children played with the bones of ancestors
Flinging with purpose, a game being played
Only to discard, caked with dust
The spirits observed, quarrelled
Over consequences they would deliver
The nauseating gravity of childlike behavior
The rain came, the children scattered
Leaving the bones where they lie
As the tears fell
The bones, submerged in mud
Returned to the Earth
Once again to be neglected
Once again be forgotten
Once again to find oblivion
So the spirits wept
https://voca.ro/1dZa2e4TChQL
I HAAAAAAVE A STRUCTURED SETTLEMENT
BUT I NEED. CASH. NOW.
CALL JG WENTWORTH
877 CASH NOW
877 CASH NOWWWWW
877 caash nowww
https://voca.ro/17Luq3MscEEZ
Sorry
eh he he he he oh eh he
eh he hie oh. eh he ah ha.
eh ha oh ho eh ha ha
i eh ha ha oh eh ah oh ha ha
rythm but no meaning
I kneel
I squeal
My headcanon isn't real
I cope
I mope
Someone hand me a rope
I sin
I never win
I belong in a trash bin
I job
I'm a slob
I'm too short
To reach the doorknob
I smell like a trashbag
My wife's an old hag
I am... a Vegeta fan
The poor Black person on the wall. Look at him.
Look at the poor Black person. Look at the poor Black person... on... the...wall.
Frick him... Frick the Black person on the wall.
Black man...is...de...debil?