Re: Fran
in reply to a message by Jen Demars
Frachesca looks sad and incorrect to me. Please use Francesca--there wouldn't be an entire poem about it if it wasn't a fantastic name!
Honestly, Fran's not a name that's popular nowadays--I don't see why people would call her by it. And considering how utterly uptight people have gotten about not giving children nicknames (one of my pet peeves, but that's another story), they'll probably dance around the issue of calling her anything but Francesca anyway.
But seriously--how can you possibly resist a name with such a nice poem to go with it?
"The Choosing of the Name" -- Charlotte Pomerantz
We wanted a name, not too fancy or plain;
More common than Unagh, less common than Jane.
Francesca was different, yet not too bizarre.
It conjured up sea wind and moon and guitar.
Still it was earthy and gallant and strong.
Quite perfect in length: not too short, not too long.
So I called to report to Brooklyn aunt.
When I mentioned the name, she said, "But you can't!"
"You don't like Francesca?" I said. "What a shame.
Of all names for girls, it's our favourite name."
"I adore it," she said. "It charms and delights.
But Francesca is sweeping through Brooklyn Heights!
There are six on my block and one right upstairs.
There are days when one sees them strolling in pairs.
My Herbie has one is his piccolo class.
Flo says there are two in percussion and brass."
So once more we sloshed through puddles of names,
More common than Cuthbert, less common than James.
We bumbled through names by the bushel, the peck;
Names a la Russe, a l'Anglaise, a la Grecque.
We listed close relatives here and abroad:
Fabrizio, Vyacheslav, Shrulnik, and Maud.
He thought of his kinfolk outside of Milano:
Aunt Fortunata and Uncle Arcano.
I remembered some cousins in Leningrad:
One Stanislav (Stanley?), one Vladimir (Vlad?).
He remembered a distant cousin, Lavinia,
Who mailed him prosciutto first-class from Sardinia.
One night in his dreams, he moaned, "Grandpa Dante
Lived till he died in Delicto Flagrante!"
Then he woke up and said, "I cannot sleep nights
'Cause Francesca is sweeping through Brooklyn Heights.
Who cares if it's common as ailanthus trees,
Peanuts mementos or children's skinned knees?
Francesca, Francesca--the name's a delight.
Tell Auntie from Brooklyn to go fly a kite."
The dilemma resolved, it seems fair to tell
That when she arrived, she was named Gabrielle.
(Bolding emphasis mine--but I think it's good advice here!)
Array
"Phineas. That's an interesting name."
"Yeah. It's Latin for 'kick me'."
Honestly, Fran's not a name that's popular nowadays--I don't see why people would call her by it. And considering how utterly uptight people have gotten about not giving children nicknames (one of my pet peeves, but that's another story), they'll probably dance around the issue of calling her anything but Francesca anyway.
But seriously--how can you possibly resist a name with such a nice poem to go with it?
"The Choosing of the Name" -- Charlotte Pomerantz
We wanted a name, not too fancy or plain;
More common than Unagh, less common than Jane.
Francesca was different, yet not too bizarre.
It conjured up sea wind and moon and guitar.
Still it was earthy and gallant and strong.
Quite perfect in length: not too short, not too long.
So I called to report to Brooklyn aunt.
When I mentioned the name, she said, "But you can't!"
"You don't like Francesca?" I said. "What a shame.
Of all names for girls, it's our favourite name."
"I adore it," she said. "It charms and delights.
But Francesca is sweeping through Brooklyn Heights!
There are six on my block and one right upstairs.
There are days when one sees them strolling in pairs.
My Herbie has one is his piccolo class.
Flo says there are two in percussion and brass."
So once more we sloshed through puddles of names,
More common than Cuthbert, less common than James.
We bumbled through names by the bushel, the peck;
Names a la Russe, a l'Anglaise, a la Grecque.
We listed close relatives here and abroad:
Fabrizio, Vyacheslav, Shrulnik, and Maud.
He thought of his kinfolk outside of Milano:
Aunt Fortunata and Uncle Arcano.
I remembered some cousins in Leningrad:
One Stanislav (Stanley?), one Vladimir (Vlad?).
He remembered a distant cousin, Lavinia,
Who mailed him prosciutto first-class from Sardinia.
One night in his dreams, he moaned, "Grandpa Dante
Lived till he died in Delicto Flagrante!"
Then he woke up and said, "I cannot sleep nights
'Cause Francesca is sweeping through Brooklyn Heights.
Who cares if it's common as ailanthus trees,
Peanuts mementos or children's skinned knees?
Francesca, Francesca--the name's a delight.
Tell Auntie from Brooklyn to go fly a kite."
The dilemma resolved, it seems fair to tell
That when she arrived, she was named Gabrielle.
(Bolding emphasis mine--but I think it's good advice here!)
Array
"Phineas. That's an interesting name."
"Yeah. It's Latin for 'kick me'."
Replies
I love this poem!! Thank you so much for posting this! Was this poem really written for the name Francesca, or could you substitute any three-syllable name in this poem?
Thanks again!! Love it!!
Thanks again!! Love it!!
The poem was really written for the name Francesca.
It's one of my favourites, too--I have it memorized, since I performed it for Forensics last year, along with two other name poems. :D
Array
"Phineas. That's an interesting name."
"Yeah. It's Latin for 'kick me'."
It's one of my favourites, too--I have it memorized, since I performed it for Forensics last year, along with two other name poems. :D
Array
"Yeah. It's Latin for 'kick me'."