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Comin Thro the Rye
by Robert Burns
modern English translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, Jenny's all wet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need anybody cry?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

Should a body meet a body
Comin' through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need all the world know, then?

Comin' through the rye, poor body,
Comin' through the rye.
She's draggin' all her petticoats
Comin' through the rye.

The poem "Comin Thro the Rye" by Robert Burns may be best-known today because of Holden Caulfield's misinterpretation of it in "The Catcher in the Rye." In the book, Caulfield relates his fantasy to his sister, Phoebe: he's the "catcher in the rye," rescuing children from falling from a cliff. Phoebe corrects him, pointing out that poem is not about a "catcher" in the rye, but about a girl who has met someone in the rye for a kiss (or more), got her underclothes wet (not for the first time), and is dragging her way back to a polite (i.e., Puritanical) society that despises girls who are "easy." Robert Burns, an honest man, was exhibiting empathy for girls who were castigated for doing what all the boys and men longed to do themselves. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, Jenny, rye, petticoats, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, song, wet, body, kiss, gossip, puritanism, prudery
Breakup with you just for him.
Get back with him
just for him.
I’ll make myself do dumb ****
just for him.
But, she’s the only one I want.
I don’t wanna do any of that.
i’m gonna develop bulimia and anorexia again because i don’t know what to do, too many problems, projects, people; i’ll land myself in the hospital soon enough and gladly let father death take me.
Your problems aren't plain
Love,
I'll listen to you complain
Don't laugh at the pain
Love,
Just listen to the rain
For: Jenny Thoma
Äŧül Sep 2019
@Atul's Love
J*** and trance music,
Entertainment of all forms,
Not far away but near,
Naturally from within,
You inspire me too.

On the rocks, you are my beer,
Hug you tight, I am your bear.

Jest and fest moods,
Emanate from your name,
Not that I forgot your name,
Nickname you, I did, honey,
Yes, it's sweet and peppy to call you Jenny.

I love you as I love myself.

Miss, you are the one I miss,
I know we shall continue happily,
Soft love of yours landed here,
Softly on my faithful heart.

You reminded me to be carefree,
On the way to perfection, I need to be,
Untouched by real love I used to be.

Honestly, your love is the truest,
Of course, my parents love me,
Not demeaning them, I am,
Efforts of theirs to keep me alive,
You too will be thankful to them.
My HP Poem #1769
©Atul Kaushal
Stxlle Aug 2019
you fall
your pieces shattered
because you are adored by all
but not to the one that mattered

you pick up your parts
scattered on the floor
a work of art
he never adored
This was inspired by Jenny Lind from The Greatest Showman
Äŧül Jul 2019
Come, Jenny, let us turn gardeners for life
And let us cultivate love in our garden,
Full & supple and steaming & pure.

Let us shatter the shackles of belief,
Hearts thump aloud if you will listen,
Come, Jenny, come let us unite as one...

Come, Jenny, hold this watering cannister,
Come help my hand already holding it,
It is very light that you would hold...

Filled with love for our kind of horticulture,
We hold it happily as our love will not end,
Yes, the one I just named Heart-i-Culture.

This will give us more happiness and love,
We shall be together through every trough,
Now our chaste love will blossom & bloom.
My HP Poem #1755
©Atul Kaushal
P-Røšę Pøę Jun 2019
She was
like a
carnival.
She enjoyed
freaks
like me.
She was
fun to
ride.
She loved the
games.
She tasted
like
sweet
cotton candy.
And at the
end of
the night,
she would
melt into me
like
Dip n' dots
ice cream.
And then,
I would
lick her
clean.
I wish
this carnival
would never
leave town.



written by me... ..
There was/is a carnival/festival that arrives every mid summer year in my area in Eden.
One year when I was a bit younger, I was walking through this carnival with 2 of my male friends.
We passed a group of 4 young women.
Each woman was surprisingly fixated on me.
There was a fine one, an okay one, one that I probably would never date and then there was her, "the Carnival".
She was a bit overweight but her face was model material, beautiful!
She would not stop letting me know how hot that she thought I was so....
I dated "the Carnival" (Angela) and all I can say is that I made the right choice.
Wheeeew!
We made hearts from rocks on the shore of our favorite lake
I made love to you while we painted our front room
We spent endless amounts of time kissing in the forest
I kissed your neck lovingly and often
We cooked dinner together, there was so much pasta
We spent a lot of time waking up together, but not a lot of time sleeping
We had a fluffy white cat and a white front door
Our little house in the woods was home
I was cold and you were warm
We drank too much whiskey and ***** straight from the bottle
You used to get jealous
Your fingers were always in my hair or on my hips
I spent a thousand hours laying on your chest
I waited for you
Christmas was our season
You love lemon bars
I wore your sweatshirts
In my mind you will always be in Boston
The snow outside our house was always icy, it crunched under our feet
We never got to finish anything we started
You drove a nice car
I used to trace hearts on your chest with my fingertips
You used to give speeches about how much you loved me
I reminded you of sunshine
You smelled like home
I died every moment without you
We don't speak of Jon
I still think of you first when I think of wolves
You called me Alice
I wanted nothing more than to be her
You strayed from me once
You would try to leave when you got angry
I looked up at you from under my lashes
I liked to kiss you softly
You held me tight, like I was slipping away
We started smoking around the same time
You were my escape
I was yours
We spent most of our time together at night or on the weekends
Holidays were our days
You left but I always waited for you
Your smile was always woofish, but you were always petting my hair
You wanted to talk about kids
I wanted you to come home
You offered me the chance at the life we'd built
You told me the truth once and it was always there in the back of my mind
Even though our world was make believe, it was real to me
This year would mark 9 years
I miss you every single day
I don't know how to escape all the feelings I have for you
You're not what I pictured, but you're so beautiful
Who we are fits together
I was the one running for a little while
I have no way to reach you now
You won't let me buy the pieces of art that you create now, painting instead of helping me make worlds out of nothing
You broke my heart again not too long ago
Because I can't reach you to let you know that I love you, Jenny
Even though You Lied, Love
Joe: 144 versus 1-2
It was the authenticity within the lie that trapped them both inside of it. They played God with a world they could not keep from collapsing, and now that it is gone they must bear the burden of the pieces that ended up trapped inside of them.
Joel Hayward Apr 2016
I know you, Jenny.
Your beauty betrays you.
What other woman has hair of
fine-spun gold thread
and long-lashed eyes of sapphire perfection?

Visible through white silk, your ******* and hips
lure me towards golden-freckled alabaster arms.

I’ve known your name all my life.
Now I meet you, smiling shyly as you bathe.

You’ll not get me, water spirit.

They say you wait
in wind-wild streams and lonely pools
for weaker souls than I
to surrender to your enchantment.

You beckon lovers in
to greet your body; to love you.

They say you
coil weeds around hopeful lovers’ ankles and pull them
down, white cold, into black depths.
You show their drowning eyes
the hideous crone you really are: Jenny Green Teeth.

But I see no crone, only youthful perfection
radiant in high sun’s glory.

Oh Jenny, your beauty and smile draw me.
Will you take me? Love me? Drown me?
Let us speak in whispers. Touch our fingers. Lips?

I cannot believe what they say. I cannot. I do not.

The water … so cold.
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