«Кончен жизненный спектакль…» (Перевод)

Here lies my gude and gracious Auntie, Whom Death has packed in his portmanty.

Приём её лукав: Чуть что – лицо в рукав, Мол, слёзы утираю. Меж тем одна у ней…

There are several reasons for drinking, And one has just entered my head; If a man cannot drink when he’s living, How the Hell can he drink when he’s dead?

SHE leaned her head against a thorn, The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa’; And there she has her young babe born, And the lyon shall be lord of a’.“Smile no sae sweet, my bonnie babe,…

There was a young man of South Bay, Making fireworks one summer day. He dropped his cigar In the gunpowder jar……

Ye sons of men give ear awhile, And listen to my prayer; To you I ask, ye sons of toil, Who are press’d with want and care,How comes it that ye toil and sweat, And bear the oppressor’s rod;…

When next you’re in print, Ned, for money or fame, Be advis’d by a friend, let the work want your name: For whoever in that should unluckily look, And remembers your last, will ne’er open the book.

I am really rather annoyed With Freud For getting us all openly bumptious About what had been secretly scrumptious.