‘‘I think I’ll go home and lie very still’’
I think I’ll go home and lie very still,
feigning terminal illness.
Then the neighbors will all troop over to stare,
my love, perhaps, among them.
How she’ll smile while the specialists
snarl in their teeth!—
she perfectly well knows what ails me.
xiii
‘‘The farmer, he complains incessantly,
his cry more raucous than the raven’s;
His fingers go about their duties
through all the raging of the storm;
Wearied beyond reward down in the marshes,
he becomes a living wreck.
His storehouse is depleted by the lions,
worse ills from hippopotami are his;
His creatures there lack dwellings
so he must leave them unprotected.
He reaches home exhausted
and the taxman cuts him down."
"wearied beyond reward down in the marshes, he becomes a living wreck" is nuts, to me