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Robert William Service (Роберт Уильям Сервис)


The Widow


I don't think men of eighty odd
Should let a surgeon operate;
Better to pray for peace with God,
And reconcile oneself to Fate:
At four-score years we really should
Be quite prepared to go for good.

That's what I told my husband but
He had a hearty lust for life,
And so he let a surgeon cut
Into his innards with a knife.
The sawbones swore: "The man's so fat
His kidneys take some getting at."

And then (according to a nurse),
They heard him petulantly say:
"Adipose tissue is curse:
It's hard to pack them tripes away."
At last he did; sewed up the skin,
But left, some say, a swab within.

I do not doubt it could be so,
For Lester did not long survive.
But for mishap, I think with woe
My hubby might still be alive.
And while they praise the surgeon's skill,
My home I've sold--to pay his bill.



Robert William Service's other poems:
  1. Вайолетт-де-ВирViolet de Vere
  2. Посылка (Пожалуй, подведем итог)L'Envoi (I guess this is the final score)
  3. Шотландское гостеприимствоHighland Hospitality
  4. Вечерний чайAfternoon Tea
  5. Канун Нового годаNew Year's Eve


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Robert Southey (Роберт Саути) The Widow ("Cold was the night wind, drifting fast the snows fell")
  • Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Widow ("By Mellstock Lodge and Avenue")

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