Выпуск 231. Shel Silverstein

[somepoetry]

Моей старшенькой - девять, а у нас - детский выпуск.
Детки уже перешли на английский настолько, что даже
у меня произошел некий сдвиг в приобщении к англоязычной
поэзии. Предлагаю вам для эксперимента стихи на английском,
автора, писавшего для детей, для взрослых и для гитары.


Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?


Point of View

Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless
Christmas dinner's dark and blue
When you stop and try to see it
From the turkey's point of view.

Sunday dinner isn't sunny
Easter feasts are just bad luck
When you see it from the viewpoint
Of a chicken or a duck.

Oh how I once loved tuna salad
Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too
'Til I stopped and looked at dinner
From the dinner's point of view.


Smart

My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more then one!

And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three times - I guess he don't know
That three is more then two!

Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickles for my three dimes,
And four is more then three!

And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more then four!

And then I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head -
Too proud of me to speak!