Ik houd van abrikozen.
Ik heb veel van hen in mijn huis.
Mooie abrikozen die ik eet wanneer ik droevig ben.
Ik ben zeer droevig omdat mijn meisje mijn papegaai, Henry,
doodde, en toen zij me aan de leuning gebonden verliet.
Ik kon me noch bewegen noc eten.
Ik bleef daar die de hele nacht,
de abrikozen bekijkt.

I like apricots.
I have many of them in my house.
Beautiful apricots which I eat when ever I am sad.
I am sad very much - my girlfriend killed my parrot, Henry,
and then she left me tied to the banister.
I could neither move nor eat.
I stayed there all night,
looking at the apricots.

Gestern erklärte meine Freundin
mir sie könnte einen Mann
nie lieben wer die gleichen Socken trug
zwei Tage laufend
zwei Tage laufend.

„Sie sind nicht laufende Socken“, sagte ich.
Aber sie lachte nicht an meinem Witz.
Es war ein guter Witz,
aber es war nicht ein guter Tag.
Ich trage verschiedene Socken heute.

Yesterday, my girlfriend told me
she could never love a man
who wore the same socks
two days running
two days running.

“They are not running socks”, I said.
But she did not laugh at my joke.
It was a good joke,
but it was not a good day.
I will wear different socks today.

J'ai pensé les hommes aimés par femmes avec des barbes.
Barbe, ma mère m'a dit,
est un buisson pour qu'un oiseau niche dedans.
Mais elle s'est trouvée et mon oiseau a volé,
et tous parce que je n'ai pas rasé.

Au fond du sac
il est froid et sans confort.
Je vis dans ce sac encore,
ce sac que je m'ai pensé était parti loin derrière
quand les bateaux sont venus des sirènes de roulement
et hommes de marin (avec des barbes!).

I thought women liked men with beards.
A beard, my mother told me,
is a bush for a bird to nest in.
But she lied and my bird has flown,
and all because I did not shave.

At the bottom of the bag
it is cold and comfortless.
I live in this bag again,
this bag which I thought I had left far behind
when the ships came bearing mermaids
and sailor men (with beards!)

La felicidad es una flor del desierto,
“born to blush unseen”,
para la mitad del minuto cada curso de la vida
en un mundo ido manchado con los hombres enojados.

¡Era feliz por treinta segundos
y entonces mi mujer me descargó
para un hombre con apenas dos monedas
o bolas para frotar junta!

Ahora, vago en el desierto
que busca otra flor pero
las “lone and level sands”
estiran en infinito.

Happiness is a desert flower,
“born to blush unseen”,
for half a minute every lifetime
in a world gone spotty with lunatics.

I was happy for thirty seconds
and then my woman dumped me
for a man with hardly two coins
or balls to rub together!

Now, I wander in the desert
looking for another flower
but the “lone and level sands”
stretch to infinity.

Я никогда не написал стихотворение раньше.
Мне никогда не было нужно написать проклятое стихотворение раньше.
Но мои глаза протекают и они не остановят.
Возможно они пропустят через мою ручку.
Возможно они разбавят мои чернила и мои ощупывания.

Да, и возможно планета повернет другой путь.
солнце поднимет в западное, принимающ меня назад к вчера.
И завтра (которое вчера) я не воюю с ей.
Я соглашусь с ей и она не погуляет прочь.
И я не напишу это стихотворение.

I never wrote a poem before.
I never needed to write a damn poem before.
But my eyes are leaking and they will not stop.
Maybe they will flow through my pen.
Maybe they will dilute my ink and my feelings.

Yes, and maybe the planet will turn the other way.
Maybe the sun will unset and take me back to yesterday.
And tomorrow (which is yesterday) I will not fight with her.
I will agree with her and she will not walk away.
And I will not have written this poem.

“Non si preoccupi per amore,„ ha detto il pescatore anziano.
“Abbastanza presto, lo interferirete, lo mangiate
e sia farcito con l'eccesso di cibo.

“Ci è abbondanza di frutta,„ ha detto il pescatore anziano.
“Mele, albicocche, limoni, banane ed uva.
Mangi questi e dimentichi circa i pesci nel mare.

“Per i pesci sarà interferito quando desidera
e presto, troppo presto voi si domanderà
se mangiate il pesce o il pesce lo mangia.„

“Don’t worry about love,” said the old fisherman.
“Soon enough, you will catch it, eat it
and be bloated with over-eating.

“There is plenty of fruit,” said the old fisherman.
“Apples, apricots, lemons, bananas and grapes.
Eat these and forget about fish in the sea.

“For the fish will be caught when it wishes
and soon, too soon you will wonder
whether you eat the fish or the fish eats you.”

Amou dançar.
Amou nadar.
Amou dar um ciclo nos montes.
Amou escutar a música rock.
Amou-me… uma vez.

Ainda ama dançar,
nadar, dando um ciclo nos montes
e escutando sua música rock infernal
(que eu tive que tolerar por quase 6 meses)!
Mas não me ama any more. Oh No., não mim!

Eu começ uma vara.
Eu encontrarei alguns dançarinos e batê-los-ei.
Eu encontrarei um nadador e afogá-lo-ei.
Eu encontrarei alguém dar um ciclo nos montes
e fure minha vara através de seus roda-raios.
Eu encontrarei um grupo do PNF e picarei seu guitarrista.

E amar-me-á… OUTRA VEZ!

She loved dancing.
She loved swimming.
She loved cycling in the hills.
She loved listening to rock music.
She loved me ... once.

She still loves dancing,
swimming, cycling in the hills
and listening to her infernal rock music
(which I had to tolerate for nearly 6 months)!
But she does not love me any more. Oh no, not me!

I will get a stick.
I will find some dancers and hit them.
I will find a swimmer and drown him.
I will find someone cycling in the hills
and stick my stick through their wheel-spokes.
I will find a pop group and poke their guitarist.

And she will love me ... again!