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The Last Laugh

I made hay while the sun shone.

My work sold.

Now, if the harvest is

And the world cold,

Give me the bonus of

As I lose hold.

#the#last#laugh

Sir John Betjeman

Sir John Betjeman CBE (/ˈbɛtʃəmən/; 28 August 1906 – 19 May 1984) was an English poet, writer, and broadcaster. He was Poet Laureate from 1972 u

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Harrow-On-The-Hill
When melancholy Autumn comes to And electric trains are lighted after The poplars near the stadium are With their tap and tap and whispering to me,
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In the licorice fields at My love and I did And many a burdened licorice Was blooming round our feet;
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Июнь, ты что-то и не весел, Словно затишье перед бурей. И облаков твоих завеса, Пугает стаю голубей. Ну где июньское тепло,

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Сколько задач конфликтуетВ бедной моей голове, Дай мне таблетку от сует, Я не привыкну к Москве! В панике скорого краха Я не хочу ничего,

Анастасия Лукомская

The Last Laugh

Sir John Betjeman

Другие работы автора

Harrow-On-The-Hill

When melancholy Autumn comes to And electric trains are lighted after The poplars near the stadium are With their tap and tap and whispering to me,

The Licorice Fields At Pontefract

In the licorice fields at My love and I did And many a burdened licorice Was blooming round our feet;

South London Sketch

From Bermondsey to So many churches are, Some with apsidal chancels, Some

Meditation On The A30

A man on his own in a Is revenging himself on his wife; He open the throttle and bubbles with And puffs at his pitiful

Сегодня читают

The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands;

The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

Argument How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; an...

To A Mouse

On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785. Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie, O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

Земляника

Ступай осторожно Среди спелых ягод Дикой земляники. © anastasia lukomskaya

Филантроп

Июнь, ты что-то и не весел, Словно затишье перед бурей. И облаков твоих завеса, Пугает стаю голубей. Ну где июньское тепло,

Таблетка

Сколько задач конфликтуетВ бедной моей голове, Дай мне таблетку от сует, Я не привыкну к Москве! В панике скорого краха Я не хочу ничего,