Стихотворения - Джойс Джеймс. Страница 21

Я лапы жала всем месье и дамам всех мастей,
Хозяйке помогал мужик рассаживать гостей,
Затем приветствие она прочла в экстазе жарком,
Что главный кочет их страны прислал своим пуляркам.
Все навалились на еду — ну, люди! вот так прыть!
Меня объели дочиста, не дав и закусить,
И жрали аж до петухов, а после с пеньем бравым
Мою печенку разыскать пытались по канавам.
Посылка:
И все ж — за Галлию, друзья, и чтоб нам без забот
В ее курятнике жилось весь следующий год.
Скорее соус передай, гусак, своей гусыне
И, о печенке позабыв, возвеселися ныне!

(Ноябрь 1937)

Стихи из «Поминок по Финнегану»

Стихотворения - i_007.png

THE BALLAD OF PERSSE O'REILLY

Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty
How he fell with a roll and a rumble
And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple
By the butt of the Magazine Wall,
                 (Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
                               Hump, helmet and all?
He was one time our King of the Castle
Now he's kicked about like a rotten old parsnip.
And from Green street he'll be sent by order of His Worship
To the penal jail of Mountjoy
                 (Chorus) To the jail of Mountjoy!
                               Jail him and joy.
He was fafafather of all schemes for to bother us
Slow coaches and immaculate contraceptives for
                                                              the populace,
Mare's milk for the sick, seven dry Sundays a week,
Openair love and religion's reform,
                 (Chorus) And religious reform,
                               Hideous in form.
Arrah, why, says you, couldn't he manage it?
I'll go bail, my fine dairyman darling,
Like the bumping bull of the Cassidys
All your butter is in your horns.
                 (Chorus) His butter is in his horns.
                               Butter his horns!
(Repeat) Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt
                                                                              [on ye,
Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!
Balbaccio, balbuccio!
We had chaw chaw chops, chairs, chewing gum, the chicken —
                                                    [pox and china chambers
Universally provided by this soffsoaping salesman.
Small wonder He'll Cheat E'erawan our local lads
                                                                nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
                 (Chorus) With his bucketshop store
                               Down Bargainweg, Lower.
So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous
But soon we'll bonfire all his trash, tricks and trumpery
And' tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be winding up his unlimited
                                                                         [company
With the bailiff's bom at the door,
                 (Chorus) Bimbam at the door.
                               Then he'll bum no more.
Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island
The hooker of that hammerfast viking
And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana bay
Saw his black and tan man-o'-war.
                 (Chorus) Saw his man-o'-war.
                               On the harbour bar.
Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez
                                    [moi scampitle, wick an wipin'fampiny
Fingal Mac Oscar Onesine Bargearse Boniface
Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker
Og as ay are at gammelhore Norveegickers cod.
                 (Chorus) A Norwegian camel old cod.
                              He is, begod.
Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming
                                                                                [rann!
It was during some fresh water garden pumping
Or, according to the Nursing Mirror, while admiring the mon —
                                                                                 [keys
That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey
Made bold a maid to woo
                 (Chorus) Woohoo, what'll she doo!
                               The general lost her maidenloo!
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher
For to go and shove himself that way on top of her
Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue
Of our antediluvial zoo,
                 (Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
                               Noah's larks, good as noo.
He was joulting by Wellinton's monument
Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus
And lie caught his death of fusiliers,
                 (Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
                               Give him six years.