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Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) Sparkling I'm not a good Cover I freely admit, And I'm not very handy at Point; I'm growing inert and no longer exert The nimble gymnastical joint: I cannot rejoice when a hurricane cut Contuses my shin with its crunch; When fielding to hitters my heart patters-pitters, But trust me to sparkle at lunch!-- I radiate freely at lunch. When Blair puts me Longstop without any pads, And delivers occasional Wides, My thumb is askew, and my bosom is blue, And bruises be-smother my sides! I cannot rejoice when a bail comes express Saluting my pate with a punch; Obesity quivers, there's wringing of withers, But trust me to sparkle at lunch!-- I radiate freely at lunch. The National Game is a tonic, I know, And a tonic is very good stuff; I wish, though, the ball were a little less small, And I wish that two pads were enough! I cannot rejoice when a Richardson comes And crumbles me up in a bunch! I never like tonic behaving cyclonic, Preferring to sparkle at lunch!-- I corruscate freely at lunch. Norman Rowland Gale's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1220 |
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