Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  OldSite Link 29-May 18:36:52 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Old Site Post 2001
· Old Site Pre 2001
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account
· Members Journals
· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
· Bubble Puzzle
· ConnectN
· Cross Word
· Cross Word Easy
· Drag Puzzle
· Word Hunt
 Reference
· Dictionary
· Dictionary (Rhyming)
· Site Updates
· Content
· Special Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
· Donations
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

Array ( [sid] => 17926 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => Language Barrier [time] => 2003-05-21 22:05:00 [hometext] => This a true story.
It happened not too long ago. [bodytext] =>

Hans rode from Austria’s Innsbruck on a train
Across the Brenner Pass to Italy,
He wishes he knew some more Italian
To fan an interesting colloquy,
A man sat opposite him on the train,
And introduced himself “Giovanni” (John)
He made it clear he’d traveled across Spain
And then in France along the Seine and Rhône

But now he wanted to explore and see
Notorious spots and famed historic sites-
The places of patriotic bravery,
Where Garibaldi once had fought his fights.
Language barrier! - oh how it does impede
To make a fascinating story clear!
Thus they conversed with fingers, fist and feet
To overcome the bothersome barrier.

A pencil was drawn forth from an etui,
And various items from a big valise.
Brochures and maps of northern Italy,
And divers charts with many a crimp and crease.
Hans spoke: “Signor Giovanni - bitte Herr!”
And delicately scratched his shining pate,
Let’s get a dictionary - its not fair
With hands and fingers only to translate.

But soon the city Mantua came in sight,
And the Signore tweaked Hans in the arm,
For in this city Virgil saw the light,
And on a hill had stood his parents’ farm;
Capisci Hans? - Hans do you understand?-
Virgil, - the Aneid, - have you never heard?
The epic glorifying Roman land
The Pax Romana and Augustus’ sword

For Virgil wrote the poet Tennyson
A splendid and most haunting elegy:
“Oh Mantuan! - on which the graces shone
Of the nine muses -Hail, Hail unto Thee!”
But whistling softly Hans raised fingers three,
To indicate some rocky mountain shelves
Where fifteen hundred Anno Domini
The Ghibbelinis battled the fierce Ghuelps.

And soon they sighted the great river Po,
Where at that time the big loose cannons stood,
And fighters, well entrenched laid tight and low,
In apprehension of impending feud.
Hans likewise had to tell a worthy tale,
But language,-oh, that bothersome barrier,
He traced out areas with the fingernail
To benefit his knowledgeable peer.

Capisci Hans? - Hans do you understand?
The signor groaned,- Comprends-tu mon ami?
“Loose cannons are an asset in a land,
They do survive,- t’is called longevity!”..
They talked about some maidens’ sweet allure,
Vendettas, feuds and violent jealousies,
Then thumbed for leads and clues in a brochure
And found some new spaghetti recipes.

A map was eased from out a rubber band,
It showed the city Pisa in light blue,
And so Hans leaned a little bit aslant.
To indicate that Pisa’s tower stood askew.
They talked about persistent enmities,
Amongst some cavaliers, and thereupon
Giovanni fetched a knife from his valise,
And struck the bench hard with his knucklebone.

It hurt somewhat, for tender was the bone
So very hard it was that he had struck,
But soon he sang in mellow baritone
The haunting tune: “Marie pleur près du lac”
“We skipped Belluno Hans, - what great a pity!
Look over there! - Oh beauteous Italy!
The vineyards round this quaint and charming city
Capisci Hans? What gorgeous scenery!
But soon Giovanni had to take his leave,
And said fare-well to Hans, and would descend,-
A shame and pity they did not achieve
The language skills to better understands.
He had arrived at destination, he
Now waved good-bye to Hans affectionately
Then sauntered off, but strange a thing occurred,
He turned and dropped a paper in the dirt,
The paper’s title stood forth large and fat,
And Hans with great astonishment there read:
“THE INNSBRUCK DAILY NEWS“,- amazing clue,
His pal came from his hometown Innsbruck too.
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 7 [informant] => Elizabeth_Dandy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
Language Barrier

Contributed by Elizabeth_Dandy on Wednesday, 21st May 2003 @ 10:05:00 PM in AEST
Topic: HumorPoetry





Hans rode from Austria’s Innsbruck on a train
Across the Brenner Pass to Italy,
He wishes he knew some more Italian
To fan an interesting colloquy,
A man sat opposite him on the train,
And introduced himself “Giovanni” (John)
He made it clear he’d traveled across Spain
And then in France along the Seine and Rhône

But now he wanted to explore and see
Notorious spots and famed historic sites-
The places of patriotic bravery,
Where Garibaldi once had fought his fights.
Language barrier! - oh how it does impede
To make a fascinating story clear!
Thus they conversed with fingers, fist and feet
To overcome the bothersome barrier.

A pencil was drawn forth from an etui,
And various items from a big valise.
Brochures and maps of northern Italy,
And divers charts with many a crimp and crease.
Hans spoke: “Signor Giovanni - bitte Herr!”
And delicately scratched his shining pate,
Let’s get a dictionary - its not fair
With hands and fingers only to translate.

But soon the city Mantua came in sight,
And the Signore tweaked Hans in the arm,
For in this city Virgil saw the light,
And on a hill had stood his parents’ farm;
Capisci Hans? - Hans do you understand?-
Virgil, - the Aneid, - have you never heard?
The epic glorifying Roman land
The Pax Romana and Augustus’ sword

For Virgil wrote the poet Tennyson
A splendid and most haunting elegy:
“Oh Mantuan! - on which the graces shone
Of the nine muses -Hail, Hail unto Thee!”
But whistling softly Hans raised fingers three,
To indicate some rocky mountain shelves
Where fifteen hundred Anno Domini
The Ghibbelinis battled the fierce Ghuelps.

And soon they sighted the great river Po,
Where at that time the big loose cannons stood,
And fighters, well entrenched laid tight and low,
In apprehension of impending feud.
Hans likewise had to tell a worthy tale,
But language,-oh, that bothersome barrier,
He traced out areas with the fingernail
To benefit his knowledgeable peer.

Capisci Hans? - Hans do you understand?
The signor groaned,- Comprends-tu mon ami?
“Loose cannons are an asset in a land,
They do survive,- t’is called longevity!”..
They talked about some maidens’ sweet allure,
Vendettas, feuds and violent jealousies,
Then thumbed for leads and clues in a brochure
And found some new spaghetti recipes.

A map was eased from out a rubber band,
It showed the city Pisa in light blue,
And so Hans leaned a little bit aslant.
To indicate that Pisa’s tower stood askew.
They talked about persistent enmities,
Amongst some cavaliers, and thereupon
Giovanni fetched a knife from his valise,
And struck the bench hard with his knucklebone.

It hurt somewhat, for tender was the bone
So very hard it was that he had struck,
But soon he sang in mellow baritone
The haunting tune: “Marie pleur près du lac”
“We skipped Belluno Hans, - what great a pity!
Look over there! - Oh beauteous Italy!
The vineyards round this quaint and charming city
Capisci Hans? What gorgeous scenery!
But soon Giovanni had to take his leave,
And said fare-well to Hans, and would descend,-
A shame and pity they did not achieve
The language skills to better understands.
He had arrived at destination, he
Now waved good-bye to Hans affectionately
Then sauntered off, but strange a thing occurred,
He turned and dropped a paper in the dirt,
The paper’s title stood forth large and fat,
And Hans with great astonishment there read:
“THE INNSBRUCK DAILY NEWS“,- amazing clue,
His pal came from his hometown Innsbruck too.




Copyright © Elizabeth_Dandy ... [ 2003-05-21 22:05:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.
Re: Language Barrier (User Rating: 1 )
by jaavys on Tuesday, 27th May 2003 @ 01:41:14 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
this is great! Excellent poem. makes me want to be their. It is going to be a famous poem, trust me on this.


Re: Language Barrier (User Rating: 1 )
by Elizabeth_Dandy on Sunday, 8th June 2003 @ 07:41:17 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Thank you Jaavys for commenting.
I am really happy, because whenever my good Uncle Mathias related this true story, we laughed so much as kids.
It really happened.
Thanks
Elizabeth




While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com