Between the Danube and the Russian River: A collaborative English classroom project between schools in California and Budapest.
 
Poem ideas:

Write short poem describing a place you have visited in the recent past. Recall the most memorable specific details and describe them.  Don't tell the reader it was beautiful or fun or cold; show the reader by describing specific details that show just how beautiful it was. 
Janka
2/18/2013 12:50:09 am

Postcard from Paris

Old, cobbled streets are in the city,
Historical ages smile me, when I see the buildings.
The Saine flows across the city,
The coffee shops are overcrowded.

Everywhere I can see loving hearts,
and admire the city from the Montmarte.
This place is the painters' paradise,
Shanzelize is the shopaholics' hospital.

Everything is beautiful,
The main sight is the Louvre.

Reply
Michael K (Ms. Hubai)
3/17/2013 01:21:57 am

I really like how you use the word shopaholic. But what is a montmarte?

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Erika Kispál
2/18/2013 06:15:12 am

Poscard from Novi Vinodolski

After a long car trip, we arrived safely,
The pressure in our lungs was stranger than in Hungary.
In Croatia the air is so humid and salty,
The local people prepared our house quickly.

Every morning we suffered from the hot weather,
There was no problem: we went to the beach together.
You can find rocks, shells and bars,
We could see the scene and hear the wave's sound.

At night we cooked dinner
Than we went to the city center.
Everything was so pretty and enjoyable,
But the best thing was the Croatian carnival.

Reply
Michael K(Ms. Hubai)
3/17/2013 01:24:05 am

Just curious what is a Croatian carnival? and what are you referring to when you say bars?

Reply
Nóra Komlódi
2/19/2013 12:49:35 am

On the lake

On the lake the new dawn comes up with all it's beauty
I'm on the highest point so I can see it totally
Our neigbour tries to get on his tiny boat
Holding a glass of one hand, in the other a coat.

One the lake the diamond swans swimming silently
When the dewfall is on the leaves everyone is sleepy
Old ladies and grandfathers shouting in the cold
I smell that young men and women baking toast.

On the lake little children playing in the water loudly
While they splashing a grandmother they don't say sorry
The lunchtime is really-really short
But it's the summer's not the parent's fault.

On the lake in the evening there is nobody
You can hear the quite steps of a fox, the night is lonely
The great moon shines over the fish pound
It's the peace of everybody: the lake,the young,the grown up,the old.

Reply
Tu Do Anh
2/19/2013 01:48:25 am

Postcard from Helsinki

It was just one of our stop.
We were in the airport,
which was really big,
so, we went to buy some souvenir.

We went to window shopping,
then we came back with a lot of things.
We bought a beautiful earrings
and a DVD for watching.

Reply
Simon
2/19/2013 05:38:00 am

This city is never asleep, you can always
hear indistand chatter.
Mary are drunk, going around in the red light district,
looking to get laid.

There are quiet spots as well. You can find lovely benches
aside the canals. The smell of fast food is always in the air
Sometimes with the smell of weed
The streetlights are comforting.

You can't find unfriendly or rude people. At least
I haven't found any.
They always greet you with a smile, and ask 'where are you
from, my friend?'
They know very little about hungary, but are always happy to offer you a cigarette

Reply
Fruzsi
2/19/2013 05:56:25 am

Postcard from Puy St. Vincent

We went to try the ski slopes
Not to meet with black wolves
We lost a bag full of CDs and bakelites
We got the chance to eat pomfries.

From 8-6 we ride the skis
From 6-8 we did anything but sleep
On a night we went down the hill
Dressed to kill.

Sleeping was not compulsory
We were tired unlikely
Standing behind the VIP fance
Getting drinks made us dance.

Reply
Laklia Balázs
2/19/2013 07:05:10 am

I travelled on the train,
I slept on a chair,
I smelled a homless really,
I wanted to send him to hell.

But I don't like conflicts,
And didn't want trouble,
I was very tired,
And I instead slept.

When my eyes were open,
I saw the wonderful land,
I didn't deal with the homless,
I just relaxed and slept.

Reply
Postcard from the train
2/19/2013 07:05:53 am

Reply
Adrienn
2/19/2013 09:11:41 pm

Postcard from Paris

Our beds were too small,
We didn't sleep well.
Somewhere metro hasn't got good smell,
And it's like a labyrinth as well.

In Louvre I was very tired,
Because of walking a lot.
We ate baguette,
It was a good plat.

I saw the thin and strange Eiffel Tower.
On the top of it, there is a beautiful view.
Finally we climbed it in one hour,
The sky was completely blue.

Reply
Se-Lee
2/20/2013 02:01:12 am

Postcard from Venice

Getting through the fog by morning,
Seeing, in the sun, Venice shining,
Walking by the docking boats,
Selling souvenirs, a native goes.

Smelling Venice's unique fishy fragrance,
Daydreaming, while I become a hindrance.
Stepping one by one over the canal,
Getting through from a campo to a piazza.

Being left at San Marco,
Having 6 hours left until our meeting time,
Getting lost 'cause we have to,
Watching the sun go down, the crowd sinking out of sight.

Reply
2/20/2013 02:19:36 am

Postcard from New York

You can walk around the world here
It’s possible to see Italy and China next to each other
Central Park is an impressive timetraveling
It’s like a forset in the nineteenth century.

From the Empire State Building
It’s a special seightseeing
I remember I could see nothing
Only the streets were yellow-colored by taxies.

I still hear the noises at night
New York never sleeps, always stays up
People never stops mooving
It feels like the city’s breathing.

Reply
Réka Tóth
2/20/2013 03:46:17 am

Postcard from Milan

First streak of dawn,
A plan is landing down.
First memories of the city,
A suburb hotel that is cheap.

Brioche and café every day,
I still feel how it tastes,
Road Buenos Aires is the fashion street,
Where I spent all my money with cheer.

There is a strange-called park,
That is beautiful when it is dark.
I see the night lights on the sky,
I am so sorry to say goodbye.

Reply
Nikol
2/20/2013 04:50:23 am

Postcard from Posztavi

I wake up in the morning,
I see the sun is shining,
I don't need to worry,
Because there is no hurry.

In the morning my first buisness,
To buy three delicious ice cream.
One ice cream I give to my mother,
And one, to my grandmother.

There is a violent dog,
which is an annoying wog,
His only goal,
To kill me brutal.

Reply
Angie
2/20/2013 05:07:42 am

Postcard from Paris

Fume of fresh baguettes in the dawn,
delicious cakes are sitting in the window.
The wall of the flat is leaning,
before nine o'clock no one is awake in the town.

You may heard about that here are several perfumeries,
that is not coincidence.
The streets are generally dirty
except the environment of the Tuileries.

Despite the smell of the city
this place is breathtaking,
skinny women transport with scooter
wearing dresses wich are pretty.


T

Reply
Teadora Tyler
2/22/2013 02:06:10 am

Postcard from the green

The sky greated us with
whippedcream clouds
It's the most beautiful place
I've ever found.
Up on Windy Hill the wind
blows our mind,
The people of Ireland are
extremely kind.
I open my eyes and
see it's all green
Mountains, sky, river,
Water and tree.
Dad drove the car
along the coast,
I cant count the times
We got lost
But we didn't mind,
that's just the point
Let the road take us
Wherever it may,
And somehow we'll end up home.

Reply
Mr. Smith
2/26/2013 09:08:32 pm

I love it.

Reply
Petra Pálinkó
2/22/2013 11:45:30 pm

I’ve never seen such a memorable thing
As that picture I see in Budapest
When the sun goes down
Behind the silhouettes
Of the seven bridges,
Like the Seven Chiestains
Whom we can be grateful
For the Hungarian words on our lips,
This ground under our feet,
And the air in our chests.
I walk around these streets
These streets of pain and history
See these people waving to each other
From Buda to Pest, the two parts
Like lovers separated by the Danube.
See the shadow of the Parlament
Laying on the water.
Everything is peaceful, everything is calm
I like being a tourist at this place
Which is called my home.

Reply
Borbála Péterffy
2/23/2013 12:15:35 am

Postcard from lake Balaton

The summer is hot,
The day seems to be endless.
We are eating watermelon.
Under a tree girls rest.

The sun slowly disappears in the lake
Like on a picture of a postcard.
Evening's coming with dark shades,
Stars are shining to the lakeside.

The moon is full and shiny,
I think it's bigger than ever.
Great storm is coming
But it doesn't matter.

The air suddenly turns to cold
And you can see the lightnings,
They paint the water silver and gold.
Summer's blown away by the wind.

Reply
Mr. Smith
2/26/2013 09:13:29 pm

I love it. The last stanza is beautiful.

Reply
Fanni Adorján
4/4/2013 01:44:07 am

I like this poem, it's beautiful, especially the last verse. I love Balaton.

Reply
Laura Seben
2/23/2013 02:23:15 am

Postcard from Jesolo

Having a holiday in Jesolo
means having a sting of a jellyfish
on the seashore I read Paulo Coelho,
I hardly couldn't finish.

We had long walks on the seaside,
Watching the sun going down,
I'm sure, there, no one thinks on a suicide,
I've almost forgotten my hometown.

My body filled in with vitamin D,
My pale skin became dark brown,
I watched the waves of the sea endlessly
And on the way back home I saw a lot of clouds.

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Liza Takács
2/23/2013 05:09:50 pm

The Tisza waves like silk in the evening
Tents were like pyramids in Egypt
Stars on the sky shoned like million gemstone
Teachers sometimes said: be calmer my child
Everyone's faces full of blush and sweat
We just lived for the moment and never rest.

Reply
Fanni Adorján
4/4/2013 01:52:37 am

This is a postcard from Tiszainoka? I love the penultimate line.

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Jázmin Nguyen
2/23/2013 07:24:35 pm

POSTCARD FROM PARIS
The sun was shining every morning
the babkery near the hotel was open already
we could breathe in the smell of crispy baguettes
while getting on the metro going to the center.

Along the walking street Champ-Elysées hundreds of people are shopping.
Going up to the spire of the Eiffel Tower
gives me a feeling like I'm on the top of the world.

The bank of river Seine at night
is full of drunk people singing local rap,
we ended here every night
watching streetdancers and skaters.

Reply
Viktor Csoma
2/23/2013 09:46:37 pm

Postcard from Egypt,

The Egyptians people are agressive
They want to sell us everything,
There are a lot of funny camel
Their speech is very simple.

The girls are very hot
while laying on the coast,
The weather is also hot
And I like it the most.

Cairo is the capital of Egypt
It makes me some good fellings,
There is the national museum
where you can see pharaoh Tutanhamon.

Reply
Márk Rétsághy
2/23/2013 09:56:25 pm

Postcard from Alanya

We went to Alanya,
I like a part of Baranya.
There isn't fall the rain,
I never go back to Spain.

I walk on the beach-
In Turkey,-
There isn't any b*tch
With turkey.

I saw lots of man,
Who don't buy tram.
I don't like the clothes of women,
They don't know who is Beethoven.

Reply
Ms. Hubai
4/9/2013 09:01:51 am

So "Ica neni" of You, Mark!
I like the playfulness of your poem.

Reply
Siklóssy Regina
2/24/2013 02:14:10 am

Postcard from Paris

Sitting in front of Centre Pompidou,
Eating flower-icecreams, it's delicious,
Sitting on the ground all afternoon,
Listening to guitar-playing street musicians.

Seeing the sunset from the Eiffel tower,
Dancing on the music of Ed Sheeran,
Meeting with creepy people at the hotel,
Admiring the beautiful pictures of Orsay and Louvre.

Eating croissant, drinking coffee,
Singing karaoke with Balázs,
Walking all day, getting tired,
Spending eight days in Paris was a wonder.

Reply
Anna Hoyle
2/24/2013 03:27:17 am

Pulled my blancket over my head
I heard my father snooring
Looked out the window
Saw the rain pooring

We started early, got in the car
And visited the sea
I felt cold so gave my mum a big hug
It was foggy so cuoldn't see

Reply
Veronika Kelemen
2/24/2013 03:29:13 am

Postcard from Bakonybél

It is quite cold in the mountains
It is beautiful when it rains
We got lost in the misty forest
When we arrived back we fall asleep

We found blackberries next to the road
We reached the cave called Devil's hole
We climbed the rocks to get to the top
It is the trip I have been waited

Reply
Blanka
2/24/2013 03:39:31 am

Postcard from a camp

Dear my adored dad and mom,

WHAT a disaster you have done!
I'm in this camp without tents
-almost the best circumstance
Too comfortable..and the food's taste..
Where is the swill I've always ate?
It's wired,oh,I can see my death
I'm writing weeping,with my both eyes wet
The keepers are mad,they all friendly
And the lots of fun frightened me
I'm scared,I will cry and miss it
My contrariness 's misfit
Kisses Your dissatisfied daughter

Reply
vki
2/26/2013 05:15:44 am

Azt se tudom, ki vagy, de baromijó lett a versed!!!!

Reply
Kasperkievicz Bence
2/24/2013 04:04:20 am

Postcard from Paris

The Eiffel Tower flashed at midnight,
I went there, and i got an insight.

I heard a familiar tune
So I went across the lights
there I descried the Moon
And I found the good flight.

In the early lights
I walked the Sheine' s side
I bought mellow wine
And I saw the Montmarte.

I looked for my elegy
I heard again the melodys
But I didn't know where they are
So I lost at my paradise.

By me

Reply
Anna
2/24/2013 04:14:27 am

Postcard from Drage

The air is hot and cicadas sing
I listened to music on the road
And as the highway turned around the hill
We noticed it was like a song we know

The sea is near and it's filled with salt
I've never tasted water this bitter
And I've only been swimming barefoot before
Now I watch sea cucumbers through swimglasses

Back at the apartement I have my own room
And its window opens at the terasse
I can climb out unnoticed, it's a secret route
Not that anyone would stop me going there

Ice cream cones are huge here
And I eat tiny crabs and pizza in the evening
And we sit on rocks like mermaids
And all of our pictures are painted blue by the sea

It's one of the last evenings
When the earth shakes just for a moment
We come together and there's nothing to understand
But still, I do remember it

Reply
Mr. Smith
2/26/2013 09:11:38 pm

I love line 1, 15 and 16. Great job.

Reply
Emese Berta
2/24/2013 04:25:52 am

Postcard From Paris

Huge mess of people
That is what Paris is like
I don't know where to look first
Check the Louvre?-I might.

I felt as if I was home
No one seemed to be alone
Some people would just stand still
That's how I knew they lived here

I was amazed by everything I saw
Especially the closest bar
French drunks are just like any other
They don't mind listening to your blather

Reply
Gábor Szikszay
2/24/2013 04:36:16 am

Postcard from a tough schooltrip

Oh, snowstorm
Snowstorm
Why do you take me
And make me
Whisk on my knees?

Why do you disable central heating?
Why do you disable central heating?
So we need to chop wood
And let it to heat for the rural brute
Who ever would?

Oh, somber night
Somber night
Who asked us for a trip
On the ice where you just slip
And all of thy bones just rip?

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Fanni Adorján
2/24/2013 04:46:12 am

Postcard from Italy

Sunshine almost burns
My hair and swarthy skin.
Warm air is filled with
Salty vapor of the sea.

Food is always delicious,
Lovely cucina della nonna.
Fresh tomatoes and spices,
And the original Italian pasta.

Vivid colored flowers are
smiling from every
Window sill, and in pots
Line up on the streets.

Freshly washed clothes
Are hanging on cords,
From higher floors
They’re the wind’s toys.

Italians are loud, and music
Is even in their language.
This miscellany causes
That I feel the time flies.

Reply
Borbála Péterffy
4/6/2013 09:29:39 pm

I like the 4th stanza most.:) I know how much you worked on this poem, an I like the result!

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Kristof Gal
2/24/2013 05:03:05 am

Postcard from Eger

I'm looking through the whole city,
like a piece of histoy,
but I'm not here
because of this.

I'm walking on the street,
in black trousers and white shirt,
it is extremely hot here,
large rivers flow on me.

There is a castle here,
I know, but that's not the place,
where I sit now, and
looking down to the city.

I'm sitting on a hill,
with one of my friends, who's here,
who is here, because I am,
because work to do we have.

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Benji Berczi
2/24/2013 05:12:16 am

Postcard from Tiszafüred

The cops walking in peace,
I feel the touch of the leaves
falling down from the chessnut trees,
and the smell of fast foods from Greece.

I hear the chatter of the rain
when the drops hit my face.
It's annoying and I don't love ya!
cuz' I can't find my umbrella.

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Julia Guszlev
2/24/2013 05:26:14 am

Postcard from the Lavatory on the third floor

Blue tiles, cigarettes smell, squeaking doors,
And girls, who make photos with their I-phones.
On the wall there are three hearts with three names:
Channing Tatum, Brad Pit and Keanu Reeves .
This is the place where you can hear great little gossip
And find dirty secrets on pink ’post-it’
So if you come here, be careful what you say
Cos’ Anyone can find out, who did you kiss last day.

Reply
Fanni Adorján
4/4/2013 02:03:56 am

I really like this poem. I like poems and arts about places and things, what I can see every day. So when I go in that lavatory I remember this poem, and the good advice at its end.

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Ms. Hubai
4/9/2013 09:04:16 am

Would I be able to hear gossip about you girls too, Julcsi?
Great poem, reminds me of the years when I was a student in Apaczai... But we were usually hanging out in the 2nd floor bathrooms.:)

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Dorottya Repkényi
2/24/2013 05:49:24 am

Postcard from Lake Balaton

In summertime, on the beach of the lake,
I see people bathing, drinking cold shake.
The weather is hot, the water is warm,
little duckies qucking, I hear them talk.

As the sun goes down, it paints the sky red,
for some fish and frog the water means bed.
Swans, like queens of the lake,
dancing like fairies, they try to fake.

Reply
Balazs Barnicskó
2/24/2013 05:56:04 am

The concentration was measurable
On the EUSO's preliminary.
Eight great chamists was competing
Which can go further.

A chubby guy let the drops come out,
Turning yellow into brown,
Another was shaking a small bottle,
It was black, blurry; she was shaking hard.

Reply
Huy Cu Le
2/24/2013 06:47:54 am

Postcard from Hanoi

There's no regulation, no rules on the street
Just the smell of smoke and shit.
Along the boulevard: tons of people
Short, tall, skinny and fat. They're all different.
But one thing is the same: everyone is open.

There's no car. Motorcycles are everywhere.
An accident just happened! No one cares.
What about the weather? It's f***ing hot.
In the bars people drink sake in one shot.

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Ms. Hubai
4/9/2013 09:07:31 am

I love your poem, Huy!!!:)
Awesome rhyming pattern!!!
Do you go to Hanoi every summer? Do you mostly like that experience, even though it's hot and stinky?

Reply
Gergő Sályi
2/25/2013 05:39:35 am

Postcard from Prague

Four hours in the bus, and we finally arrived,
three more stops in the metro, Hostel Emma is ready for us.
The evening along the Moldva is beautyful,
the bridge appears to be very long.
This night is short, the castle nedds us to see
its magic: the cathedral and the Golden street.
As the clouds are gone, we are ready upstairs, high
at the Petrin to feel whole city is how nice.
When the shopping is done, I walk alone to the downtown,
just for be late from the real night?
The third day is the longest, everything in the technical museum
is so exciting, like everything later, in that srange darkness.
Yeah, the last day is heavy, but at least
you don't think about that you leave.

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lóránt
2/25/2013 04:54:17 pm

Postcard from the project

after 7PM, cops are coming,
the old woman did the calling.
in the evening, the playgrounds are for the teens,
smoking weed, doing coke, drinking beer.
if you miss the only bus, which goes to the city,
bad luck, dude, go home and watch the TV.
the scenery from the balkon' to the flats is priceless,
you feel your heart beating; to love elsewhere is pointless.

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Imre
2/26/2013 02:52:05 pm

Postcard from the microdistrict

I'm living in the microdistrict south of Pest
With poor, embittered, crap people, hobos and the rest
I can hear them crying and shouting every night
Down on the streets, in an early morning, everybody is impolite


A homeless woman in the freezing weather
Sitting in the bus stop and loudly natter
Scolding the government, the system of the past
Whoever knows how long does she lasts?

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Mr. Smith
2/26/2013 09:06:59 pm

I love it.

Reply
Flora
3/2/2013 05:28:59 pm

Postcard from the Universe

I'm looking down to the Earth,
from the Universe.
I can see everything that's happening
down there.
Just like a neverending movie.
I can see all the wars, deaths, sadness...
And I can see beauty;
the Big Apple, with the statue of Liberty,
the City of Love with the Eiffel Tower,
the Sahara with its amazing emptiness,
Budapest, with the Chain Bridge,
London with the Big Ben.
But most importantly,
I can see the people:
living their lives
-thousands of world inside the World-
they are loving, struggling,
feeling, crying...
and at the End, they are dying.
And it all seems so small
from the Universe.

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Miklos Jasdi
3/3/2013 12:25:28 am

Postcard from Frankfurt Airport

Planes land, taxi and take off,
The life does never stop at the airport.
This one lying in Frankfurt am Main
is the largest on the European Isle.
Boeing, Airbus, all kinds of birds
Fly here from all over the world.

-But why is the airport so crowded?
-Not only because the city is attractive;
Many people use it for transfer,
after they landed, they fly forth from here.
So if you want to approach this lively town,
Don't travel on road but through the clouds.

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Bogi Fehér
3/3/2013 05:32:17 am

The day was warm
When I sit on the boat.
I saw the sundown.
The river was by my side.

It was the big Danube.
This river has a big value.
It carried me somewhere
But I didn't know where I go.

It was a long journey
With a lot of pleasure.
I sent a letter for you
From the Danube...

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Bence Kálmán
3/4/2013 03:55:16 am

I was in the Kaiser's City,
where the Suzies are Annamaries,
and in every shop you can see
Mozartkugelns and violins.

On the Mariahilfer Strasse
classical buildings merge with glass palaces,
and in the Kristkindlmarkt
you blend into the crowd - to never buy, only to watch.

Where the transport doesn't suck,
the policemen are really nice,
when in English for help you ask,
they reply: "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

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Pataki Barbi
3/4/2013 11:44:07 pm

Postcard from Vienna

Vienna is the city of buying
It doesn't matter how much I'm trying
I always have to buy something brand new,
New cloth, new shoes and some souvenirs, too.

I love the Schönbrunn zoo, since it's lovely
The punch on Kristkindlmarkt is tasty,
In the end, I can eat some rotted food,
So when I come home, I just puke and puke

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Fehér Berci
3/5/2013 03:19:41 am

A Postcard from London

Here I am, where the weather's rainy,
Where you can eat some bad food daily.
Where the twohundred year old queen lives
Where you can watch live the olympics.
Here's the Tower Bridge and the Big Ben,
Here the breakfast is bread with some jam.
This is my darling's favorite city,
I send my greetings from here to Hungary

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Henrietta
3/7/2013 04:33:21 am

A postcard from Paris

I'm here in the French capital,
Although I don't speak French at all.
Watch a sight in every street
Then I can do a shopping spree.
Stay out late at Saine River
When the moonlight makes it silver.
City of love, city of lights,
Beautiful days, wonderful nights.

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Tamás Bunth
3/10/2013 05:06:23 am

Postcard from Siófok

Some lazy people's lying on the beach,
There is no duty, no one wants to teach.
The weather is 40°, more then hot,
Now it's time to go into the water, cool.
Oh, There's a pretty girl on the right,
How to get to know her? What an awesome smile.

At sunset the swimming time is over,
Petőfi sétány is the next place to be there.
Air-hockey, billiard, soccer is here to play,
there are other services (whores, I'd like to say).
Some drunk guys playing at the harbor with a swan,
One has been bitten, it flew away nervously then.

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Bálint
3/10/2013 07:44:49 am

Postcard from Paris

The night in Paris was nice,
You can buy everything from black guys.
French girls are pritty,
You can stool a kiss quickly.

Eat for breakfast a bagett,
And for dinner, a crép.
You can go anywhere with metro,
It's very good, let's go!

The city like a creature
wake up every day,
Never become tired,
Enjoy the life here, all day!

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Duncan
4/3/2013 09:07:10 am

What do you mean by "Saine"?

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Ms. Hubai
4/9/2013 09:05:24 am

It's a river that splits the city of Paris into two.

Reply
megan mcconnell
4/24/2013 02:11:34 am

i absolutly, 100% love this poem

Reply



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    Students,

    After closely reading the poems on the left, do your very best to use Jozsef's poems to inspire your own. Model your poems after his. Click the red "comments" Iink and post your poem that imitates Jozsef's in form, theme, and feeling.
    Click here to upload file