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.

1. The Rhyme of the Remittance Man
2. My Ancestors
3. The Lure of Little Voices
4. The Cremation of Sam Mcgee
5. Bessie's Boil

Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Widow ("By Mellstock Lodge and Avenue")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1833

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