No one got hurt in the fire, but it was reported that
one million rats were consumed in the flames.
They say a million rats laid down
Their lives the day Seattle blazed
To ash. The town within the town
Asleep: nocturnal rats unfazed
By daytime noises gone awry —
Such dreams of fish and apple pie
In ovens, crusts and marmalades
In garbage cans for midnight raids
Danced through, from cell to cell, their small
Uncluttered rodent brains as flame
Consumed with wagging tongue the lame
And fat ones first but nearly all
In crackling bites. The lithe ones woke
But only soon enough to choke.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRzRbxd5YKA
I want you to know
He’s not coming back
Look into my eyes
I’m not coming back
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Don’t look down
Shove it in your mouth
If you’d been a dog
They would have drowned you at birth
Look into my eyes
It’s the only way you’ll know I’m telling the truth
So knives out
Cook him up
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
I want you to know
He’s not coming back
He’s bloated and frozen
Still there’s no point in letting it go to waste
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
um, chilling.
Alphonse is kid stuff.
Santiago, who taught you my old family recipe?
You actually made me sympathize with the verminous plague-bearers, Mr Potter — scampering from morsel to morsel to their doom. Nicely done!
Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee….
This burns me up, Angelico. Thanks.
Ye scribblin ferlie!
Potter, this is a more impressive trick than you know.
?
But you know Templeton would have survived.
Templeton always survives.
Good on’ya!
JOB
Thanks JOB. Note the rhyme scheme!
The rhyme scheme is korrekt! But the meter is still not quite Pushkin-standard. If you are aiming to write according to the form, the line-endings are as follows, where capital letters represent lines that end on stressed syllables (pot of glue/ embers flew), and lower-case letters represent lines that end on unstressed syllables (distant rattle/ all Seattle). All lines are, however, tetrametric, as you’ve been doing.
a
B
a
B
c
c
D
D
e
F
F
e
G
G
See, eg, Chapter Two from Stanley Mitchell’s English translation of Onegin:
http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/magazine/record.asp?id=12805
My own little travesties are also, in this way if none other, exemplary — To (half-) wit:
‘That deed is done if I but dare it –
That thing I can’t stop thinking of!’
So thinks, as he slinks from his garret,
One Rodion Raskolnikov.
His head is light; his stomach rumbles
As down the dingy stair he stumbles
Into the muggy summer throng.
Anonymous, he’s swept along.
The sunset oozes out a bloody
Light that stains the steamy streets,
And Rodion’s own blood now beats
To force his fevered brain to study
What banes his every waking thought:
‘How shall I execute that plot?’
Oh Snap! Pushkin’s beginning to remind me of my wife. High maintenance.
But so totally worth it!
Да, полностью. And that’s the first and last time I will ever use the phrase, “Oh snap!”
I hear this thing – where does it come from?
JOB
Oh, yes, I do.
Korrekter Pushkonnets fortcoming…
JOB