Re: rip maya angelou
Posted: Fri May 30, 2014 12:06 pm
hipster holocaust is a good dude too, sorry man
Move along Paulo's boss. Nothing to see here.
https://www.reeelapse.com/
pix 2 proov, bbSpooky Apparition wrote:reminded me to check my rating on ratemyprofessor..... got dat hot pepper
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hipster holocaust wrote:SPOILERSPOILER_SHOWIt's a song I wrote backed when I lived in the muhfuckin ghetto. Every verse is repeated twice except for the first two.
"Bushwick Lament" by Dr. Maya Angelou
Reggaeton fills the air
From the barbershop downstairs
But no one seems to care
I'll be on my merry way
Raggaeton fills the air
From the barbershop downstairs
Go downstairs if you dare,
I'll be on my merry way
Spanish girl, lips and hips
Spanish girl, give me a kiss
Spanish girl, watch that fist
I'll be on my merry way
Stick up kid wants my loot
Stick up kid, you're so cute
Stick up kid, please don't shoot
I'll be on my merry way
Cops are called frequently
Cops are called "pig, piggy"
Cops are called, flee the scene
I'll be on my merry way
Old man says it's his hood
Old man says I'm no good
Old man says move I should...
I'll be on my merry way
Goodbye, Bushwick. Hello, Ridgewood.
bite your tongue.FVBTVS wrote:sweet lord hitlers most cherished manchurian candidate hast revealed herself?
hipster holocaust wrote:Post Hitler's poetry, or poetry of Hitler.
Dank es! Von Adolf Hitler (1923)
Wenn deine Mutter alt geworden / Und älter du geworden bist
Wenn ihr, was früher leicht und mühelos / Nunmehr zur Last geworden ist,
Wenn ihre lieben, treuen Augen / Nicht mehr, wie einst, ins Leben seh’n
Wenn ihre müd’ gewordnen Füße / Sie nicht mehr tragen woll’n beim Gehen. –
Dann reiche ihr den Arm zur Stütze, / Geleite sie mit froher Lust –
Die Stunde kommt. Da du sie weinend / Zum letzten Gang begleiten musst!
Und fragt sie dich, so gib ihr Antwort. / Und fragt sie wieder, sprich auch du!
Und fragt sie noch mehr, steh ihr Rede, / Nicht ungestüm, in sanfter Ruh!
Und kann sie dich nicht recht verstehen, / Erklär’ ihr alles froh bewegt.
Die Stunde kommt, die bitt’re Stunde, / Da dich ihr Mund nach nichts mehr fragt!
The Mother
“When your mother has grown older,
When her dear, faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
When her feet, grown tired,
No longer want to carry her as she walks -
Then lend her your arm in support,
Escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
Must accompany her on her final walk.
And if she asks you something,
Then give her an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
Not impatiently, but with gentle calm.
And if she cannot understand you properly
Explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
When her mouth asks for nothing more.”
Adolf Hitler, 1923.
No shit. The English translation isn't that good, either, and makes it sound worse than the German original.Necrometer wrote:so today we learn that hitler is a way way way better poet than maya
beautiful stuff.Pisscubes wrote:The fact that his thread has somehow, against all odds, degraded into comparing Maya Angelou to Hitler (with Hitler coming out on top, apparently) is why I love this board so very much.
rough translation:nomb wrote:hipster holocaust wrote:Post Hitler's poetry, or poetry of Hitler.
Dank es! Von Adolf Hitler (1923)
Wenn deine Mutter alt geworden / Und älter du geworden bist
Wenn ihr, was früher leicht und mühelos / Nunmehr zur Last geworden ist,
Wenn ihre lieben, treuen Augen / Nicht mehr, wie einst, ins Leben seh’n
Wenn ihre müd’ gewordnen Füße / Sie nicht mehr tragen woll’n beim Gehen. –
Dann reiche ihr den Arm zur Stütze, / Geleite sie mit froher Lust –
Die Stunde kommt. Da du sie weinend / Zum letzten Gang begleiten musst!
Und fragt sie dich, so gib ihr Antwort. / Und fragt sie wieder, sprich auch du!
Und fragt sie noch mehr, steh ihr Rede, / Nicht ungestüm, in sanfter Ruh!
Und kann sie dich nicht recht verstehen, / Erklär’ ihr alles froh bewegt.
Die Stunde kommt, die bitt’re Stunde, / Da dich ihr Mund nach nichts mehr fragt!The Mother
“When your mother has grown older,
When her dear, faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
When her feet, grown tired,
No longer want to carry her as she walks -
Then lend her your arm in support,
Escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
Must accompany her on her final walk.
And if she asks you something,
Then give her an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
Not impatiently, but with gentle calm.
And if she cannot understand you properly
Explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
When her mouth asks for nothing more.”
Adolf Hitler, 1923.