Из полного собрания бессмыслиц (с параллельным текстом на английском языке). Эдвард Лир

has got no webs between his toes!)

      As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell,

      In violent love that Crane King fell,—

      On seeing her wadding form so fair,

      With a wreath of shrimps in her shot white

                                                                  hair.

      And before the end of the next long day,

      Our Dell had given her heart away;

      For the King of the Cranes had won that

                                                                  heart,

      With a Crocodile’s egg and a large fish-tart.

      She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes,

      Leaving the Nile for stranger plains;

      And away they flew in a gathering crowd

      Of endless birds in a lengthening cloud.

      Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!

      We think no Birds so happy as we!

      Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!

      We think so then, and we thought so still!

      And far away in the twilight sky,

      We heard them singing a lessening cry,—

      Farther and farther till out of sight,

      And we stood alone in the silent night!

      Often since, in the nights of June,

      We sit on the sand and watch the moon;—

      She has gone to the great Gromboolian plain,

      And we probably never shall meet again!

      Oft, in the long still nights of June,

      We sit on the rocks and watch the moon;—

      She dwells by the streams of the Chankly

                                                                  Bore,

      And we probably never shall see her more.

      Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!

      We think no Birds so happy as we!

      Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!

      We think so then, and we thought so still!

      The Table and the Chair

I

      Said the Table to the Chair,

      “You can hardly be aware,

      How I suffer from the heat,

      And from chilblains on my feet!

      If we took a little walk,

      We might have a little talk!

      Pray let us take the air!”

      Said the Table to the Chair.

II

      Said the Chair unto the Table,

      “Now you Know we are not able!

      How foolishly you talk,

      When you know we cannot walk!”

      Said the Table, with a sigh,

      “It can do no harm to try,

      I’ve as many legs as you,

      Why can’t we walk on two?”

III

      So they both went slowly down,

      And walked about the town

      With a cheerful bumpy sound,

      As they toddled round and round.

      And everybody cried,

      As they hastened to their side,

      “See! the Table and the Chair

      Have come out to take the air!”

IV

      But in going down an alley,

      To a castle in a valley,

      They completely lost their way,

      And wandered all the day,

      Till, to see them safely back,

      They paid a Ducky-quack,

      And a Beetle, and a Mouse,

      Who took them to their house.

V

      Then they whispered to each other,

      “O delightful little brother!

      What a lovely walk we’ve taken!

      Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!”

      So the Ducky, and the leetle

      Browny-Mousy and the Beetle

      Dined, and danced upon their heads,

      Till they toddled to their beds.

      The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker, and the Tongs

I

      The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,

      They all took a drive in the Park,

      And they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong,

                                                            Ding-a-dong,

      Before they went back in the dark.

      Mr. Poker he sate quite upright in the coach,

      Mr. Tongs made a clatter and clash,

      Miss Shovel was dressed all in black (with a

                                                            brooch),

      Mr. Broom was in blue (with a sash).

      Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!

      And they all sang a song!

II

      “O Shovely so lovely!” the Poker he sang,

      “You have perfectly conquered my heart!

      Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you’re pleased

                                                            with my song,

      I will feed you with cold apple tart!

      When you scrape up the coals with a delicate

                                                            sound

      You enrapture my life with delight!

      Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round!

      And your shape is so slender and bright!

      Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!

      Ain’t you pleased with my song?”

III

      “Alas! Mr. Broom!» sighed the Tongs in his

                                                                            song.

      O