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قراءة كتاب Perverted Proverbs: A Manual of Immorals for the Many
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اللغة: English
Perverted Proverbs: A Manual of Immorals for the Many
الصفحة رقم: 3
class="i2">For him the pockets open wide; He never finds both balls in baulk, Or makes miss-cues for want of chalk.
He swears; he very likely bets; He even wears a flaming necktie; Inhales Egyptian cigarettes And has a "Mens Inconscia Recti"; Yet, spite of all, one must confess That naught succeeds like his excess.
There's no occasion to be Just, No need for motives that are fine, To be Director of a Trust, Or Manager of a Combine; Your corner is a public curse, Perhaps; but it will fill your purse.
Then stride across the Public's bones, Crush all opponents under you, Until you "rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves"; and, when you do, The widow's and the orphan's tears Shall comfort your declining years!
But having had your boom in oil, And made your millions out of it, Would you propose to cease from toil? Great Vanderfeller! Not a bit! You've got to labour, day and night, Until you die—and serve you right!
Then, when you stop this frenzied race, And others in your office sit, You'll leave the world a better place, —The better for your leaving it! For there's a chance perhaps your heir May spend what you've collected there.
Myself, how lucky I must be, That need not fear so gross an end; Since Fortune has not favoured me With many million pounds to spend. (Still, did that fickle Dame relent, I'd show you how they should be spent!)
I am not saint enough to feel My shoulder ripen to a wing, Nor have I wits enough to steal His title from the Copper King; And there's a vasty gulf between The Man I Am and Might Have Been;
But tho' at dinner I may take Too much of Heidsieck (extra dry), And underneath the table make My simple couch just where I lie, My mode of roosting on the floor Is just a trick and nothing more.
And when, not Wisely but too Well, My thirst I have contrived to quench, The stories I am apt to tell May be, perhaps, a trifle French; (For 'tis in anecdote, no doubt, That what's Bred in the Beaune comes out.)
It does not render me unfit To give advice, both wise and right, Because I do not follow it Myself as closely as I might; There's nothing that I wouldn't do To point the proper road to you.
And this I'm sure of, more or less, And trust that you will all agree, The Elements of Happiness Consist in being—just like Me; No sinner, nor a saint perhaps, But—well, the very best of chaps.
Share the Experience I have had, Consider all I've known and seen, And Don't be Good, and Don't be Bad, But cultivate a Golden Mean.
* * * * * * *
What makes Existence really nice Is Virtue—with a dash of Vice.
"Enough is as Good as a Feast."
What is Enough? An idle dream! One cannot have enough, I swear, Of Ices or Meringues-and-Cream, Nougat or Chocolate Eclairs, Of Oysters or of Caviar, Of Prawns or Paté de Foie Grar!
Who would not willingly forsake Kindred and Home, without a fuss, For Icing from a Birthday Cake, Or juicy fat Asparagus, And journey over countless seas For New Potatoes and Green Peas?
They say that a Contented Mind Is a Continual Feast;—but where The mental frame, and how to find, Which can with Turtle Soup compare? No mind, however full of Ease, Could be Continual Toasted Cheese.
For dinner have a sole to eat, (Some Perrier Jouet, '92,) An Entrée then (and, with the meat, A bottle of Lafitte will do), A quail, a glass of port (just one), Liqueurs and coffee, and you've done.
But should you want a hearty meal, And not this gourmet's lightsome snack, Fill up with terrapin and teal, Clam chowder, crabs and canvasback; With all varieties of sauce, And diff'rent wines for ev'ry course.
Your tastes may be of simpler type;— A homely glass of "half-and-half," An onion and a dish of tripe, Or headpiece of the kindly calf. (Cruel perhaps, but then, you know, "'Faut tout souffrir pour être veau!")
'Tis a mistake to eat too much Of any dishes but the best; And you, of course, should never touch A thing you know you can't digest; For instance, lobster;—if you do, Well,—I'm amayonnaised at you!
Let this be your heraldic crest, A bottle (chargé) of Champagne, A chicken (gorged) with salad (dress'd), Below, this motto to explain— "Enough is Very Good, may be; Too Much is Good Enough for Me!"
"Don't Buy a Pig in a Poke."
Unscrupulous Pigmongers will Attempt to wheedle and to coax The ignorant young housewife till