Only now I read the beautiful poem by Dylan Thomas, which inspired yours.
Forgive me my silly answer, tailor. I wanted to answer something and well, I never was good at poetry.
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Only now I read the beautiful poem by Dylan Thomas, which inspired yours.
Forgive me my silly answer, tailor. I wanted to answer something and well, I never was good at poetry.
double
Not at all. My offering was in response to your "Wasteland" linked poem and some breadcrumbs left elsewhere recently by you (and others). Be well.Quote:
Originally Posted by Danik 2016
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Thanks, tailor, you too. And you and cacian are right. Let´s use these last hours to exchange our own texts and others.
So here goes:
"“They’ve taken over our section,” Irene said. The knitting had reeled off from her hands and the yarn ran back toward the door and disappeared under it. When she saw that the balls of yarn were on the other side, she dropped the knitting without looking at it.
“Did you have time to bring anything?” I asked hopelessly.
“No, Nothing.” We had what we had on. I remembered fifteen thousand pesos in the wardrobe in my bedroom. Too late now. I still had my wristwatch on and saw that it was 11 P.M.. I took Irene around the waist (I think she was crying) and that was how we went into the street. Before we left, I felt terrible; I locked the front door up tight and tossed the key down the sewer. It wouldn’t do to have some poor devil decide to go in and rob the house, at that hour and the difference with the house taken over.
https://www.shortstoryproject.com/st...se-taken-over/
Enjoyed the story link... gave me pause.
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Thanks, tailor. So let's go on with Frederico García Lorca
Quote:
Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias
1. Cogida and death (first part of the lament)
At five in the afternoon.
It was exactly five in the afternoon.
A boy brought the white sheet
at five in the afternoon.
A frail of lime ready prepared
at five in the afternoon.
The rest was death, and death alone.
The wind carried away the cottonwool
at five in the afternoon.
And the oxide scattered crystal and nickel
at five in the afternoon.
Now the dove and the leopard wrestle
at five in the afternoon.
And a thigh with a desolated horn
at five in the afternoon.
The bass-string struck up
at five in the afternoon.
Arsenic bells and smoke
at five in the afternoon.
Groups of silence in the corners
at five in the afternoon.
And the bull alone with a high heart!
At five in the afternoon.
When the sweat of snow was coming
at five in the afternoon,
when the bull ring was covered with iodine
at five in the afternoon.
Death laid eggs in the wound
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
At five o'clock in the afternoon.
A coffin on wheels is his bed
at five in the afternoon.
Bones and flutes resound in his ears
at five in the afternoon.
Now the bull was bellowing through his forehead
at five in the afternoon.
The room was iridiscent with agony
at five in the afternoon.
In the distance the gangrene now comes
at five in the afternoon.
Horn of the lily through green groins
at five in the afternoon.
The wounds were burning like suns
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon!
It was five by all the clocks!
It was five in the shade of the afternoon!
http://boppin.com/lorca/lament.html
Quite poignant... the droning of time accentuates the tension. I'm thinking a bull fight fatality before I click the link...
Ignacio must have been an important bull fighter, at least to the writer, to receive such praise and lament. Back in the late '60's my father would watch bullfighting on the telly and I would watch with him sometimes. The sport was majestic to watch, gore not withstanding. One gets a grand feel of place, and time, through the descriptive devices of the writer. Enjoyed this offering very much.
Two of my favorite short stories by the master Poe: The Tell Tale Heart...... https://americanenglish.state.gov/fi...le_heart_0.pdfQuote:
TRUE!—nervous—very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses—not destroyed—not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily—how calmly I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
and The Cask of Amontillado......Quote:
The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled—but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved, precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
https://archive.org/stream/thecaskof...63gut/1063.txt
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Personally I hate bullfights and am frankly on the bulls side. Here is some more information on Sanches Mejias.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ignaci...ez_Mej%C3%ADas
But the poem as such is impressive.
Thanks for the Poe stories, very fitting for this LitNet moment:
I found a tale by Horácio Quiroga:
La Insolación / Sunstroke
“La Insolación / Sunstroke”
Old, the puppy, went out through the door and crossed the patio with a slow and upright gait. He stopped at the edge of the field, stretched out on the hill, his eyes half-closed, wiggled his nose, and laid down calmly. He looked out at the monotonous plains of Chaco that switched between fields and hills, hills and fields colorless besides the cream white of the grass and the black of the bush. Some two hundred meters out, the hill cut off the horizon on all three sides by the corn fields. Towards the west, the fields widened and extended out into the valley, framed by the inescapable shadowed line in the distance."
Oooops! I forgot the link to the stories!
https://quirogatranslated.wordpress....ion-sunstroke/
Fascinating wiki. Agree, bullfighting is anathema nowadays, Mexico & Spain notwithstanding - where I imagine it is still quite a spectacle.
“There are so many thorns.”... "At midnight they heard his steps and the thud of his two boots on the floorboards before the light came on. The dogs could then feel the change of owner closing in on them. Alone, at the foot of the sleeping house, they began to cry."
An interesting perspective. To think dogs/cats/etc might have a heightened sense of imminent death is an intriguing notion. Here's one account of cats: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/new...sing-home.html
I'll try to come up with a story later tonight... grand-daughter coming over for help with her homework (college math) in a minute and FHE tonight :) )
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Enjoy the visit of your granddaughter! If you prefer to post a poem, that will be fine, too. I've read more stories than poems.
Thanks for sharing the link on cats.
Enjoy the visit of your granddaughter! If you prefer to post a poem, that will be fine, too. I've read more stories than poems.
Thanks for sharing the link on Oskar. Someone actually wrote a short story based on him. The thread is buried somewhere in the forum.
An old favorite poem of mine is by Don Marquis. Here's a taste followed by a link to the poemhttps://followingpulitzer.wordpress....g/don-marquis/Quote:
... it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty...
Also staying with the theme of cats Don Marquis' song of mehitabel...https://www.blueridgejournal.com/poems/dmQuote:
this is the song of mehitabel
of mehitabel the alley cat
as i wrote you before boss
mehitabel is a believer
in the pythagorean
theory of the transmigration
of the soul and she claims
that formerly her spirit
was incarnated in the body
of cleopatra...
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
To be sure:
andQuote:
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
https://followingpulitzer.wordpress....g/don-marquis/
Lol! Particularely liked the "wotthehells"Quote:
do you think that i would change
my present freedom to range
for a castle or moated grange
wotthehell wotthehell
do you think that i would change
my present freedom to range
for a castle or moated grange
wotthehell wotthehell
A cat tragedy
Quote:
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to every watery god,
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no Nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard;
A Favourite has no friend!
https://interestingliterature.com/20...of-goldfishes/
Loved the pretension of the poem and the moral ending:Some more cat poems from some of my favorite poets; some of which I had never read before!? including:Quote:
From hence, ye beauties, undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold
Le Chat (The Cat) by Charles Baudelaire...I particularly like Baudelaire's poem because he brings to mind my dear departed Odie who had a cream coloured coat and the most amazing gold flecked-coloured eyesQuote:
Come, superb cat, to my amorous heart;
Hold back the talons of your paws,
Let me gaze into your beautiful eyes
Of metal and agate.
https://lithub.com/15-great-cat-poem...itten-by-cats/
And a poem I penned and posted on LitNet 6-years ago:
My Kitties Gone Home 2013
Beloved SnoBall, Tai, my dearest Pi
Gone home to rest unto the eternities
So tired my tears, so tried my fears
For Doodles and Odie, my remaining kitties
O' heaven's bright beam, make this a dream
Let me awaken to better days gone past
Where is the justice? Why all the fuss?
For three departed kitties sorely missed
9/10/2013
As I said Odie has since passed on. Taffydoodles (Doodles/TD/fuzzy-butt/Taffy) is quite old now (15?+); we also have Rosie and Tinker Bell in the family now, although Rosie is now relegated to being outdoors for being a bad kitty (she unpotty-trained herself after 5-years!).
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Loved both poems. Read a Baudelaire poem on cats before, but it wasn´t this one. Only cat lovers know the sadness of losing a cat. Fortunately you have three. That about Rosie is strange, if it was a male cat it might be marking the territory. But a female,? Have you talked to the vet about it?
Muier
By William Carlos Williams
Oh, black Persian cat!
Was not your life
already cursed with offspring?
We took you for rest to that old
Yankee farm, — so lonely
and with so many field mice
in the long grass —
and you return to us
in this condition —!
Oh, black Persian cat.
(This time I couldn´t edit it)
(lol) I love WCW's poems. No, I hadn't thought of taking Rosie to the vet at all... she all of a sudden started bolting outdoors anytime the door was opened in addition to her bad-kittyness. I thought she had just received the call of the wild; now we have to worry about her being preyed upon (foxes/mountain lions/bobcats/martins/bears/skunks/etc)... as well as her preying on the California quail, and other birds, I love.
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-call-of-the-wild/
One more: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-...wings/#content
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Thanks for the poems, I'll post something tomorrow when I'm on the PC again. On tablet( Android) things are a bit more difficult, for example I couldn't open poem hunter.
Meanwhile a link that might be useful:
https://www.quora.com/My-cat-was-pot...e-what-do-I-do
Both my cats lived in the garden before I adopted them and I was astonished how automatically they took to the litter box. Only my male cat sprayed around before he was neutered.
So now, with silvery tab reminding me of my silver cat:
"And then the vision that I had
Of Tabbie soaring through the night,
Quick vanished, and I felt so sad
For that poor pussy's piteous plight.
For though frustration has it stings,
Its mockeries in Hope's despite,
The hell of hells is to have wings
Yet be denied the bliss of flight."
"So now, with silvery tab reminding me of my silver cat:
"And then the vision that I had
Of Tabbie soaring through the night,
Quick vanished, and I felt so sad
For that poor pussy's piteous plight.
For though frustration has it stings,
Its mockeries in Hope's despite,
The hell of hells is to have wings
Yet be denied the bliss of flight."
Beautiful poems, specially the call of the wild
'5.Cats in a Gale
Lingle lingle lang tang Cats hae tails
Tae tie roon trees
Fin wins blaw gales
Gin tails brakk aff awa they flee
A flicht o cats abeen Dundee"
Scots cats
"Lingle lingle lang tang"...Love the Scot poem.
Thank you for the Quora link. Most likely it is our latest addition (Tinker Bell) that is causing Rosie's distress; she is in otherwise excellent health. When Tinker Bell was a bit bigger than ball of fluff we thought he was a girl (Tinker Belle). It was only when we wanted him spayed that we were made aware of our error. He has since grown into a huge male black/sable kitty with the most delightful mew, but prolly too rambunctious for dear Rosie.
Here's an excerpt from a short story about another large black cat by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle / The Brazilian Cat:... http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-st...s/BraCat.shtmlQuote:
... In the centre of this room, lying in the middle of a golden patch of sunlight, there was stretched a huge creature, as large as a tiger, but as black and sleek as ebony. It was simply a very enormous and very well-kept black cat, and it cuddled up and basked in that yellow pool of light exactly as a cat would do. It was so graceful, so sinewy, and so gently and smoothly diabolical, that I could not take my eyes from the opening.
"Isn't he splendid" said my host, enthusiastically.
"Glorious! I never saw such a noble creature."
"Some people call it a black puma, but really it is not a puma at all. That fellow is nearly eleven feet from tail to tip. Four years ago he was a little ball of black fluff, with two yellow eyes staring out of it.
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Interesting story, tailor. Did some research about Brazilian cats, found out that black is not an usual color here. http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/d-...arate-species/
Also wondered where Conan Doyle heard about Pernambuco, as he probably never visited Brazil. I am always a bit amused when I notice how wild and dangerous Brazil appears in the European Literature of the 19C.
Now might that be Rosies point of view?
https://www.letras.mus.br/chico-buarque/85973/ I hope you enjoy the music too.
(lol) Loved the music.The tigrina is a beuatiful little wildcat, and two distict species for North and South! More cats of South America: https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/...h-america.htmlQuote:
Story of a Cat Chico Buarque Feeded Me Caressed Me Enlisted Me Accustomed Me My world was the flat Detefon, cushion and treat Every day filet mignon Or even a good cat filet They told me, every time Stay home, don't take wind But It's hard to stay in your house When in the moonlight So many cats on the street Singing all night We cats are born poor But we're born free Lord, lady or landlord Feline won't you recognize We cats are born poor But already born free Lord, lady or landlord Feline, you will not recognize In the morning I came home I was barred at the concierge No fillet and no pillow Because of the singing But now my daily life Is in the middle of the catwalk Down the street turning can I I'm more me, more cat In a crazy serenade Who goes out singing at night We cats are born poor But we are born free Lord, lady or landlord Feline, you will not recognize We cats are born poor But no more ascend free Lord, lady or landlord Feline, you will not recognize
Either Sir Arthur was playing fast and loose with his black coated cougar, or going with the legendary/mythical "black cougar of death" (quite fitting for the story - and he was a spiritualist), or possibly a black jaguar (a true black coated kitty) is speculative without further research; ref: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_panther
To further muddy the waters: https://books.google.com.ua/books?id...%20%3F&f=false
As far as Sir Arthur's travels he did go to the United States, New Zealand, and Australia; this paragraph about his trip to Australia reveals a lot about the man:... https://www.abc.net.au/religion/a-sp...-the-/10099536Quote:
Conan Doyle was amused by "a dear little possum which got under the back of my coat, and would not come out." He saw a blue headed wren, kangaroos, wallabies, lizards, an eagle and "noisy mina birds which fly ahead and warn the game against the hunter. Good noisy little mina!" He urged the local authorities to ensure the place remained protected. "Do this, and your grandchildren will extol your wisdom. Don't do it, and in ten years it will be too late." Happily, they followed his advice. Humbug Scrub remains a wildlife sanctuary to this day.
Sir Arthur's wiki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Conan_Doyle
Hard to fathom Rosie's point of view; perhaps...
A short story; starts:... https://www.baen.com/Chapters/978162...791207___2.htmQuote:
Gummitch was a superkitten, as he knew very well, with an I.Q. of about 160. Of course, he didn't talk. But everybody knows that I.Q. tests based on language ability are very one-sided. Besides, he would talk as soon as they started setting a place for him at table and pouring him coffee. Ashurbanipal and Cleopatra ate horsemeat from pans on the floor and they didn't talk. Baby dined in his crib on milk from a bottle and he didn't talk. Sissy sat at table but they didn't pour her coffee and she didn't talk—not one word. Father and Mother (whom Gummitch had nicknamed Old Horsemeat and Kitty-Come-Here) sat at table and poured each other coffee and they did talk. Q.E.D.
AND some more music for you to enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xqdOfONd34
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
This post is sequence to #186
THE CAT-HOOD OF MAURICE
Quote:
TO have your hair cut is not painful, nor does it hurt to have your whiskers trimmed. But round wooden shoes, shaped like bowls, are not comfortable wear, however much it may amuse the onlooker to see you try to walk in them. If you have a nice fur coat like a company promoter's, it is most annoying to be made to swim in it. And if you had a tail, surely it would be solely your own affair; that any one should tie a tin can to it would strike you as an unwarrantable impertinence-to say the least.
http://www.forgottenfutures.com/game/ff8/mworld.htm
Thanks, tailor, your last post is quite a banquet!Have learnt quite a lot, until now Conan Doyle was for me only the inventor of the Sherlock Holmes stories.
Interesting to know that the "Brazilian cat' was subject of an article. I think Brazil stands here for the unknown, dangerous and the fatal place. As for the color of the animal it was fitting, as you said, for this story. And here in Brazil there is much prejudice against black cats.
Some solutions sound funny in the Google translation, but it is not its fault, it was only being literal. For example "don't take wind" I would translate perhaps as "keep out of the draught", "I'm more me" ="I'm more myself", but on the whole I think you got the idea. The song is part of a musical written on The Bremen Town Musicians by the Grimm Brothers
Very amusing story, the story of Gummitch. I was astonished to learn that the author was American because of his German name.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fritz_Leiber
As for Rosie, in spite of abundant fillets and petting maybe she thinks herself "The black sheep of the family>
With our rock lady, Rita Lee:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rita_Lee
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XyveLQfO9XA
https://lyricstranslate.com/en/ovelh...ack-sheep.html
A simple acrostic poem of sorts I posted on LitNet nearly 4-years ago:
Cat of Black
She stalks her quarry: this huntress who
walks upon padded feet; calculates
in perfect control, 'cept whisker's twitch
Beauty, lithe; nearby a ravaged clew
like death's chosen cat's paw - understates
the familiar: a flash of tail which
night brings her prey to mortal peril
10/19/2015
:tailor
Leiber: a fascinating life, and a poet!
Rita Lee: "When the band reformed in 2006, she refused to join, calling the reunion an attempt to "earn cash to pay for geriatry"... (lol). Also had a Gilberto Gill and Paulo Coelho connection. It is sad to know that the music of the 60's & 70's in Brasil was at times ostrasized if it wasn't PC; also happened here in my country to a small degree. A very accomplished artist.
Thanks for the lyrics translation... also found this youtube offering of Ovelha Negra "Black Sheep" with Brasilian & English subtitles (with some other songs and artists off to the side)... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Acr...&index=20&t=0s Great sound (love the guitars especially :) )
I would have loved to hear Rita Lee in the psychedelic music period of her life... will look for a vid later.
The Cat-Hood of Maurice: Interesting twistEine Kleine KatzenMusik ?... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeoT...ature=youtu.beQuote:
'Oh, I can't bear it, I can't,' cried poor Maurice, in a heartrending meaow that echoed through the house. He leaped from the bed and tore through the door and down the stairs, and behind him came the most terrible thing in the world. People might call it a sardine-tin, but he knew better. It was the soul of all the fear that ever had been or ever could be. It rattled.
The Cat That Walked By Himself by Rudyard Kipling... beginsQuote:
EAR and attend and listen; for this befell and behappened and became and was, O my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild. The Dog was wild, and the Horse was wild, and the Cow was wild, and the Sheep was wild, and the Pig was wild--as wild as wild could be--and they walked in the Wet Wild Woods by their wild lones. But the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat. He walked by himself, and all places were alike to him...
http://www.boop.org/jan/justso/cat.htm
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Cat of Black-Enjoyed the images of the poem. Reminded me of my black cat which was a very good hunter and sometimes brought me "presents" which I had to rescue if they were still alive.
A find:Young Rita Lee singing Beatles songs:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEd2YPl8VFA
Kleine Katzenmusik is fine but the cats themselves don´t seem very happy.
The Cat That Walked By Himself-Fine story about the relation between pets and humans.
"The city of the cats and the city of the people lie one within the other, but they are not the same city. Only few cats remember the times when there was no difference: the streets and the squares of the people were also streets and squares of the cats, and the lawns, the courtyards, the balconies and the fountains: one could live in a wide and various space. But, already for many generations now, the domestic felines are prisoners of an unlivable city: the streets are uninterruptedly raced by the deadly traffic of the cat-crushing automobiles; in every square meter of ground where a garden or a clear area or the remnants of an old demolition were opened, now tower apartment buildings and shiny new skyscrapers; each sidewalk is crowded by parked automobiles; the courtyards are - one by one - paved and transformed in garages, cinemas, warehouses or offices."
http://www.ruanyifeng.com/calvino/20...rn_cat_en.html
From the Cats Musical:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-L6rEm0rnY (saw it when I was in NY).
Funny, sad little story.
Love the musical play Cats.
For some reason I couldn't get sound for Rita Lee's songs, something is buggy (others are playing)!? Will try again later.
Rossini's Cat Duet: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5bJ...rt_radio=1&t=3
A fairytale: https://fairytalez.com/the-poor-mill...y-and-the-cat/
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
Unblocked Autoplay. Test please if it is still soundless:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEd2YPl8VFA
If yes it may be that the video is not allowed in US, because of autoral rights. That often happens now.
Unblocked Autoplay. Test please if it is still soundless:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEd2YPl8VFA
If yes it may be that the video is not allowed in US, because of autoral rights. That often happens now.
Finally got Rita Lee's link to play. After fussing with all my laptop audio settings I finally noticed that Youtube actually auto-muted the video in the Opera Browser tab (not the video window) and I hadn't noticed (too many tabs opened as usual). Her voice adds an elegance to the lyrics and the Latin beat accompanies her very nicely.
Found another early Rita Lee video from her "psychedelic era": Os Mutantes- Panis Et Circensis & Bat Macumba (Complete French TV-1969)... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxwQhrfTEc8
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
I'm having posting, login and log out difficulties since yesterday! Will try to answer from PC.
Lol! Loved the Rossini duet, specially the second cat! Found another very funny version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvBZ_nPNOQI
Interesting. Your fairy tale seems a kind of female Puss in the boots.
Loved this little story and Beatrix Potters drawings. Good to share with grandchildren if they are the right age:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2-IV0bxMgg
(lol) loved the other Rossini rendition too... Hard to believe Rossini treated this piece as a serious work. Started watching the Beatrix Potter video and it put me to sleep (lol-again); well produced. My grandkids/great-grandchild are either too old or too young 22/18/11/ & almost 1 but I'll keep it in mind when my g-gc gets older.
Poem by T.S. Eliot you might recognize: The Ad-Dressing of Cats... https://www.brainpickings.org/2013/0...953-t-s-eliot/
I was surprised that the Broadway Play "Cats" was based on T.S. Eliot's children's book: "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" and includes the above poem in its musical repertoir.
“Fugue in G Minor” by Domenico Scarlatti (“The Cat’s Fugue”)...
https://youtu.be/N1-xjCCBQjI
A short story: Tobermorey starts -Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),Quote:
It was a chill, rain-washed afternoon of a late August day, that indefinite season when partridges are still in security or cold storage, and there is nothing to hunt - unless one is bounded on the north by the Bristol Channel, in which case one may lawfully gallop after fat red stags. http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-st...ooks/Tob.shtml
tailor
Lol!Beatrix Potter wasn t meant as sleeping pill. I didn´t know you had so many grandchildren and one still a baby!
http://www.english-for-students.com/...d-The-Fox.html
Love TS Elliots book and the musical Cats which is a fond memory from New York, specially because I watched it with a free card!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywFbpDjpZno
Lovely cat fugue
Tobermorey- An interesting story, but meaning that speech sometimes creates a lot of havoc. And there were no social nets yet.
A short moral fable: http://www.english-for-students.com/...falling-leaves
And a poem by Wordsworth https://poets.org/poem/kitten-and-falling-leaves
Delighted to find that Rita Lee is on Amazon music and I can stream and listen to her on my Echo :)
A Moral Story : The Cat and The Fox - Good moral, but oh, how sad! Last night I spied a small family of 3-foxes capering about for a moment before they disappeared into the brush. Also reminded me about the joke where two friends meet a grizzly bear and one asks the other if they can outrun the bear and the other says: "All I know is that I just have to outrun you".
The Rum Tum Tugger (lol) The musical must have been a visual feast.
A problem with:falling-leaves ? link seems to be broken (must have been a mashup between two of your links)...Quote:
I researched and found this list but it doesn't seem to be there... http://www.english-for-students.com/Moral-Stories.html ROFL... #119 !!!
... Loved it: a tender, sweet poem.Quote:
With a tiger-leap half way, now she meets the coming prey,
Poem: The Galloping Cat by Stevie Smith:
http://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poem...galloping-cat/
In her own voice: https://soundcloud.com/poetsreadingp...mith-reads-the
A Hemingway short story Cat in the Rain (please pardon George); starts:And a chuckle or two... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h588...ature=youtu.beQuote:
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on
the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced
the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden. http://english.heacademy.ac.uk/wp-co.../Hemingway.pdf
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor
I am very glad you like our Rock Lady and that you can have her on streaming.
Do you believe that I never saw a real fox? Not even at the zoo, I think.
Sorry about the link confusion. Litnet was unstable for some days, I probably hurried to post in between the error messages.
Her is another fable, not so sad as the first:
http://www.english-for-students.com/Bell-The-Cat.html
The Galloping Cat by Stevie Smith: Poem ok, but did this poet like cats?
Cat in the Rain- A funny thing happened. I thought the story was really beginning, when it ended and went hunting for the missing pages but there were no missing pages. I think the story started well, a young bored couple, a young woman thirsting for something new in her life and then she gets the cat and The End. As it is the cat in the rain seems to represent the girl somehow, having to adapt in order not to get wet.
A poem:
And:https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article...rs-best-friendQuote:
To A Cat
Jorge Luis Borges
Mirrors are not more silent
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that panther
we catch sight of from afar.
By the inexplicable workings of a divine law,
we look for you in vain;
More remote, even, than the Ganges or the setting sun,
yours is the solitude, yours the secret.
Your haunch allows the lingering
caress of my hand. You have accepted,
since that long forgotten past,
the love of the distrustful hand.
You belong to another time. You are lord
of a place bounded like a dream.
:hurray:Even editing is possible now!
.....
I guess editing and links are problematical at this point... I'll keep trying.