My love runs by like a day in June,
And he makes no friends of sorrows.
He’ll tread his galloping rigadoon
In the pathway of the morrows.
He’ll live his days where the sunbeams start,
Nor could storm or wind uproot him.
My own dear love, he is all my heart, —
And I wish somebody’d shoot him.
(Mindy Lee y Dorothy Parker, gran combinación)
My love, he’s mad, and my love, he’s fleet,
And a wild young wood-thing bore him!
The ways are fair to his roaming feet,
And the skies are sunlit for him.
As sharply sweet to my heart he seems
As the fragrance of acacia.
My own dear love, he is all my dreams, —
And I wish he were in Asia.
(de nuevo Mindy Lee y de nuevo Dorothy Parker)
My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled —
Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him.
My own dear love, he is all my world, —
And I wish I’d never met him.
(el dibujo es de Mindy Lee, el poema de Dorothy Parker)
Jueves naciente. Nuestro héroe inicia la jornada con su característico y probado dinamismo.
(la pinta angelinme220)
In May my heart was breaking-
Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
And sore it split in sleep.
And when it came November,
I sought my heart, and sighed,
“Poor thing, do you remember?”
“What heart was that?” it cried.
(los pinta Travis Charest. El poema se llama Autumn Valentine y lo escribió Dorothy Parker)
Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
Broke my brittle heart in two;
And that is very bad.
Love is for unlucky folk,
Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
And that, I think, is worse.
(los pinta V del Rey, el poema es de Dorothy Parker)
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
(los pinta Mindy Lee, el poema es de Sylvia Plath)
Pussy can sit by the fire and sing,
Pussy can climb a tree
Or play with a silly old cork and string
To ‘muse herself, not me.
(sigue siendo Mike Maihack y sigue siendo Rudyard Kipling)
