Singerie Summer afternoon in Hell! Down the empty street it fell, Pantaloon and Scaramouche-- Tongues like flames and shadows louche-- Flickered down the street together In the spangled weather. Flames, bright singing-birds that pass, Whistled wares as shrill as grass (Landscapes clear as glittering glass), Whistled all together: Papagei, oh Papagei, Buy our greenest fruits, oh buy, Melons misty from the bloom Of mellow moons on some hot night, Melting in the August light; Apples like an emerald shower; Nectarines that falling boom On the grass in greenest gloom; Peaches bright as parrot’s feather Glistening from the moon’s bower; Chequered like fritillaries, Fat and red are strawberries. Parrot-voices shrill together-- Now they pelt each monkey-face (Pantaloon with simian grace) From the soft gloom till they smother Both the plumed head-dresses With the green fruit-gems that glitter (Twinkling sharp sounds like a zither). Sharp each bird-tongue shrills and hisses, Parrot-voices shrieking bane;-- Down comes every spangled shutter With a sudden noise like rain. |
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