Het vrije vers

Voor en door plezierdichters

Met Forum, Vorm én Vent

Welkom, Gasten
Gebruikersnaam: Wachtwoord: Onthoud mij

Onderwerpen in de categorie: Clerihews

0 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 8 maanden 1 week geleden door Remko Koplamp
185 Bekeken
7 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 9 maanden 5 dagen geleden door Andrea
285 Bekeken
0 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 2 jaren 10 maanden geleden door Claus Zigmunt Roternhauer
863 Bekeken
1 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 2 jaren 11 maanden geleden door Remko Koplamp
719 Bekeken
0 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 2 jaren 11 maanden geleden door Remko Koplamp
772 Bekeken
0 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 7 jaren 7 maanden geleden door theodanes
1036 Bekeken
0 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 7 jaren 8 maanden geleden door Bas Boekelo
931 Bekeken
1 Reacties emo
Onderwerp gestart op 7 jaren 8 maanden geleden door Horst Grogmuller
1054 Bekeken
Tijd voor maken pagina: 0.157 seconden

Log in

Gebruikersnaam en wachtwoord:

Forum (recent...)

Uit het archief

Amerikaans light verse 3: To my Friends and Critics

Come all you friends and critics,
And listen to my song,
A word I will say to you,
It will not take me long,
The people talks about me,
They've nothing else to do
But to criticise their neighbors,
And they have me now in view.

Perhaps they talk for meanness,
And perhaps it is in jest,
If they leave out their freeness
It would suit me now the best,
To keep the good old maxim
I find it hard to do,
That is to do to others
As you wish them do to you.

Perhaps you've read the papers
Containing my interview;
I hope you kind good people
Will not believe it true.
Some Editors of the papers
They thought it would be wise
To write a column about me,
So they filled it up with lies.

The papers have ridiculed me
A year and a half or more.
Such slander as the interview
I never read before.
Some reporters and editors
Are versed in telling lies.
Others it seems are willing
To let industry rise.

The people of good judgment
Will read the papers through,
And not rely on its truth
Without a candid view.
My first attempt at literature
Is the "Sweet Singer" by name,
I wrote that book without a thought
Of the future, or of fame.

Dear Friends, I write for money,
With a kind heart and hand,
I wish to make no Enemies
Throughout my native land.
Kind friends, now I close my rhyme,
And lay my pen aside,
Between me and my critics
I leave you to decide.

Koop koop koop