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Robert William Service (Роберт Уильям Сервис)


A Busy Man


This crowded life of God's good giving
No man has relished more than I;
I've been so goldarned busy living
I've never had the time to die.
So busy fishing, hunting, roving,
Up on my toes and fighting fit;
So busy singing, laughing, loving,
I've never had the time to quit.

I've never been one for thinking
I've always been the action guy;
I've done my share of feasting, drinking,
And lots of wenching on the sly.
What all the blasted cosmic show meant,
I've never tried to understand;
I've always lived just for the moment,
And done the thing that came to hand.

And now I'll toddle to the garden
And light a good old Henry Clay.
I'm ninety odd, so Lord, please pardon
My frequent lapses by the way.
I'm getting tired; the sunset lingers;
The evening star serenes the sky;
The damn cigar burns to my fingers...
I guess... I'll take... time off... to die.



Robert William Service's other poems:
  1. Music in the Bush
  2. The Rhyme of the Remittance Man
  3. The Little Old Log Cabin
  4. The Younger Son
  5. The March of the Dead


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1832


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