A sow went for a walk one day
With all her family.
The happy mother said Oink-Oink!
The piglets squealed Ee-Ee!
Then one of them, who squealed the most.
Said, “Brothers, can’t you see:
All grown-up porkers say Oink-Oink!
How can we squeal Ee-Ee!
“Who said we’re worse than grown-up pigs?
Now listen, friends, to me!”
Poor thing, he thought he’d say Oink-Oink,
But really squealed Ee-Ee. . . .
Since then the piglets ceased to root
And frisk about the lea
And all because they couldn’t Oink,
But only squealed Ee-Ee.
My boy, this story has a point
As clear as clear can be.
If you’re too young to say Oink-Oink,
Then boldly squeal Ee-Ee!
Весной поросята ходили гулять.
Счастливей не знал я семьи.
«Хрю-хрю», — говорила довольная мать,
А детки визжали: «И-и»!
Но самый визгливый из всех поросят
Сказал им: «О, братья мои!
Все взрослые свиньи «хрю-хрю» говорят,
Довольно визжать вам «и-и»!
Послушайте, братья, как я говорю.
Чем хуже я взрослой свиньи?»
Бедняжка! Он думал, что скажет «хрю-хрю»,
Но жалобно взвизгнул: «И-и»!
С тех пор перестали малютки играть,
Не рылись в грязи и в пыли.
И все оттого, что не смели визжать,
А хрюкать они не могли!
Мой мальчик! Тебе эту песню дарю.
Рассчитывай силы свои.
И, если сказать не умеешь «хрю-хрю», —
Визжи, не стесняясь: «И-и»!
«Stars raced headlong. Seaward headlands lathered. / Salt spray blinded. Eyes dried up their tears. / Darkness filled the bedrooms. Thoughts raced headlong. / To Sahara Sphinx turned patient ears. Candles guttered. Blood, it seemed, was frozen / In the huge Colossus. Lips at play / Swelled...»
«That year! How often “Out you fall!” / That old year's whisper at my window said. / The new year makes an end of all / And brings a Dickens Christmas tale instead. He murmurs: “Shake yourself, forget.” / Mercury rises with the sun outside, / Just as the old year strychnine set / ...»
«Dawn shakes the candle, shoots a flame / To light the wren and does not miss. / I search my memories and proclaim: / "May life be always fresh as this!” Like a shot dawn rang through the night. / Bang-bang it went. In swooning flight / The wads of bullets flame and hiss. / May life be...»
«So they begin. With two years gone / From nurse to countless tunes they scuttle. / They chirp and whistle. Then comes on / The third year, and they start to prattle. So they begin to see and know. / In din of started turbines roaring / Mother seems not their mother now. / And you not yo...»