The Complete Poems of Rudyard Kipling – 570+ Titles in One Edition. Rudyard 1865-1936 Kipling

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Название The Complete Poems of Rudyard Kipling – 570+ Titles in One Edition
Автор произведения Rudyard 1865-1936 Kipling
Жанр Языкознание
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Издательство Языкознание
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isbn 9788027232345



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But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,

       There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,

       O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

      You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:

       We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.

       Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face

       The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

      For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"

       But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;

       An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;

       An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool—you bet that Tommy sees!

       Fuzzy-Wuzzy (Soudan Expeditionary Force)

      We've fought with many men acrost the seas,

       An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not:

       The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;

       But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot.

      We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im:

       'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses,

       'E cut our sentries up at Suakim,

       An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces.

      So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;

       You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;

       We gives you your certificate, an' if you want it signed

       We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined.

      We took our chanst among the Khyber 'ills,

       The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,

       The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,

       An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style:

       But all we ever got from such as they

       Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;

       We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say,

       But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oller.

      Then 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid;

       Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.

       We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair;

       But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.

      'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,

       'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,

       So we must certify the skill 'e's shown

       In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:

       When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush

       With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear,

       An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush

       Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year.

      So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your friends which are no more,

       If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would 'elp you to deplore;

       But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair,

       For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!

      'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,

       An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;

       'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,

       An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead.

      'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!

       'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,

       'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn

       For a Regiment o' British Infantree!

       So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;

       You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;

       An' 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air—

       You big black boundin' beggar—for you broke a British square!

       Table of Contents

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       Why don't you march with my true love?"

       "We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

       New love! True love!

       Best go look for a new love,

       The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,

       An' you'd best go look for a new love.

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       What did you see o' my true love?"

       "I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       Did ye see no more o' my true love?"

       "I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly—

       But you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"

       "I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white—

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       I'll up an' tend to my true love!"

       "'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       I'll down an' die with my true love!"

       "The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im—

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       Do you bring no sign from my true love?"

       "I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,

       An' you'd best go look for a new love."

      "Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

       O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"

       "An' I tell you truth again—when you've lost the feel o' pain

       You'd best take me for your true love."

       True love! New love!

       Best take 'im for a new love,

       The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,

       An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.

       Table of Contents

      Smokin' my pipe on the mountings,

       sniffin' the mornin' cool,