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Hilaire Belloc,
1870 - 1953

(Хилари Беллок) 


Театр

The world's a stage. The trifling entrabce fee
Is paid (by proxy) to the registrar.
The Orchestra is very loud and free
But plays not music in particular.
The do not printing programme, that I know.
The cast is large. There isn't any plot.
The acting of the piece is far below
The very worst of modernistic rot

The only part about it I enjoy
Is what was called in English the Foyay
There will I stand apart awhile and toy
Will thought, and set my cigarette alight;
And then - without returning to the play -
On with my coat and out into night


Fatigue

К чорту!

I'm tired of Love: I'm still more tired of Rhyme.
But Money gives me pleasure all the time.


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