English

Fanny Foo-Foo was a Japanese girl,
A child of the great Tycoon;
She wore her head bald, and her clothes were made
Half petticoat, half pantaloon;
And her face was the color of lemon peel,
And the shape of a tablespoon.

A handsome young chap was Johnny Hi-Hi;
He wore paper-muslin clothes;
His glossy black hair on the top of his head
In the shape of a shoe brush rose;
And his eyes slanted downward, as if some chap
Had savagely pulled his nose.

Fanny Foo-Foo loved Johnny Hi-Hi,

The family is a little book,
The children are the leaves,
The parents are the cover that
Safe protection gives.

At first, the pages of the book
Are blank, and smooth, and fair;
But time soon writeth memories,
And painteth pictures there.

Love is the golden clasp
That bindeth up the trust;
O break it not, lest all the leaves
Shall scatter like the dust.

The family altar in our home
Holds such a beauty rare;
Among the treasures of this life
There's none that can compare.

'Tis just about the evening hour
When day has spent itself
That Dad takes down the Bible
From its place upon the shelf.

We read the Word together and
We bow at Jesus' feet;
How precious is that fellowship!
It makes our day complete!

And all the burdens we possess
Are swallowed up in prayer;
The sweetness of this time with God
Reveals His love and care.

F alse beauty who, although in semblance fair,
R ude art in action, and hast cost me dear,
A s iron harsh, and harder to outwear,
N ame that did spell the end of my career,
C harm that dost mischief, builder of my bier,
O gress who dost thy lover's death require,
Y outh without pity! Womankind, dost hear?
S hould help a man, not drag him in the mire!

M uch better had it been to seek elsewhere
A id and repose, and keep my honour clear,
R ather than thus be driven by despair
T o flee in anguish and dishonour drear.

Here is the queen
getting ready for a party.
He stands in the bathroom
pinning a flower in his hair.
It is a silk rose.
He touches his collarbone —
ascertains its definition:
He will wear something
with a low front.
At the mirror
he powders his face.
He surveys it like virgin land
ready for development.
He pencils thin brows
and views his progress.
There's a lot to do.
Our queen must leave in five minutes.
He adds green to the eyelids
finds the rouge and colors
the white base.

Fallen ? How fallen? States and empires fall;
O'er towers and rock-built walls,
And perished nations, floods to tempests call
With hollow sound along the sea of time:
The great man never falls.
He lives, he towers aloft, he stands sublime:
They fall who give him not
The honor here that suits his future name,—
They die and are forgot.

O Giant loud and blind! the great man's fame
Is his own shadow, and not cast by thee,—
A shadow that shall grow
As down the heaven of time the sun descends,

It is not against the law to grope yourself
D.D.T.

Remember yourself
— Gurdjieff
While walking toward housewife wheeling baby
reach down and squeeze your cock,
looking at her casually.
Adjust cock from left side to right
causing half hard-on,
then shift it back.

Wear balls on one side, cock on other.

Tug at crotch of pants as if to free genitals
tangled in underwear.
Give it a good tugging.
Go out without underwear.

The fall is here, with its brown leaves falling
And its cold night winds kissing the flowers;
Soon the flowers will be dead and trees will be barren,
Then we will know that summer has fled.

And all nature around will seem asleep and forgotten;
Then the hearth by the fireside will welcome us home —
We can talk, we can ponder and think of the summer,
How we enjoyed the fragrance of its sweet-smelling bloom.

Alas! that is not all — the winter is coming
With its joy and its sorrow, its pleasure and pain,

" Ffa i th, m aster , whither you will,
Whereas you like the best;
Vnto the castle of Bittons-borrow,
And there to take yo u r rest."

" But yonder stands a castle faire,
Is made of lyme and stone;
Yonder is in it a fayre lady,
Her lord is ridden and gone."

The lady stood on her castle-wall,
She looked vpp and downe;
She was ware of an hoast of men,

Faith, I wish I were a leprechaun
Beneath a hawthorn tree,
A-cobblin' of wee, magic boots,
A-eatin' luscious, lovely fruits;
Oh, fiddle-dum, oh, fiddle-dee,
I wish I were a leprechaun
Beneath a hawthorn tree!

Faith, I wish I were a leprechaun
Beneath a hawthorn tree,
A-throwin' snuff into the eyes
Of young and old and dull and wise;
Oh, fiddle-dum, oh, fiddle-dee,
I wish I were a leprechaun
Beneath a hawthorn tree!

Faith, I wish I were a leprechaun
Beneath a hawthorn tree,