Un pensament a “Carnaval des animaux-camille St Saens

  1. Això és un públic amb bones orelles !
    Una delicia. Gràcies.

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    Ogden Nash: Verses for Camille Saint-Saëns’
    Carnival of the Animals

    Introduction

    Camille Saint-Saëns
    Was wracked with pains,
    When people addressed him,
    As Saint Sanes.
    He held the human race to blame,
    Because it could not pronounce his name.
    So, he turned with metronome and fife,
    To glorify other kinds of life.
    Be quiet please – for here begins
    His salute to feathers, fur, and fins.

    Royal March of the Lion

    The lion is the king of beasts,
    And husband of the lioness.
    Gazelles and things on which he feasts
    Address him as your highoness.
    There are those that admire that roar of his,
    In the African jungles and velds,
    But, I think that wherever the lion is,
    I’d rather be somewhere else.

    Hens and Roosters

    The rooster is a roistering hoodlum,
    His battle cry is “cock-a-doodleum”.
    Hands in pockets, cap over eye,
    He whistles at pullets, passing by.

    Wild Asses

    Have ever you harked to the jackass wild,
    Which scientists call the onager?
    It sounds like the laugh of an idiot child,
    Or a hepcat on a harmoniger.
    But do not sneer at the jackass wild,
    There is a method in his heehaw.
    For with maidenly blush and accent mild
    The jenny-ass answers shee-haw.

    Tortoises

    Come crown my brow with leaves of myrtle,
    I know the tortoise is a turtle,
    Come carve my name in stone immortal,
    I know the turtoise is a tortle.
    I know to my profound despair,
    I bet on one to beat a hare.
    I also know I’m now a pauper,
    Because of its tortley, turtley, torper.

    The Elephant

    Elephants are useful friends,
    Equipped with handles at both ends.
    They have a wrinkled moth-proof hide.
    Their teeth are upside down, outside.
    If you think the elephant preposterous,
    You’ve probably never seen a rhinosterous.

    Kangaroos

    The kangaroo can jump incredible,
    He has to jump because he is edible.
    I could not eat a kangaroo,
    But many fine Australians do.
    Those with cookbooks as well as boomerangs,
    Prefer him in tasty kangaroomeringues.

    Aquarium

    Some fish are minnows,
    Some are whales.
    People like dimples,
    Fish like scales,
    Some fish are slim,
    And some are round,
    They don’t get cold,
    They don’t get drowned.
    But every fishwife
    Fears for her fish.
    What we call mermaids
    They call merfish.

    People With Long Ears

    In the world of mules
    There are no rules.

    The Cuckoo in the Middle of the Wood

    Cuckoos lead bohemian lives,
    They fail as husbands and as wives,
    Therefore, they cynically dispariage
    Everybody else’s marriage.

    Aviary

    Puccini was Latin, and Wagner Teutonic,
    And birds are incurably philharmonic,
    Suburban yards and rural vistas
    Are filled with avian Andrew Sisters.
    The skylark sings a roundelay,
    The crow sings “The Road to Mandalay,”
    The nightingale sings a lullaby,
    And the sea gull sings a gullaby.
    That’s what shepherds listened to in Arcadia
    Before somebody invented the radia.

    Pianists

    Some claim that pianists are human,
    And quote the case of Mr Truman.
    Saint Saëns, upon the other hand,
    Considered them a scurvy band.
    A blight they are, he said, and simian,
    Instead of normal men and womian.

    Fossils

    At midnight in the museum hall,
    The fossils gathered for a ball.
    There were no drums or saxophones,
    But just the clatter of their bones,
    A rolling, rattling carefree circus,
    Of mammoth polkas and mazurkas.
    Pterodactyls and brontosauruses
    Sang ghostly prehistoric choruses.
    Amid the mastodonic wassail
    I caught the eye of one small fossil,
    “Cheer up sad world,” he said and winked,
    “It’s kind of fun to be extinct.”

    The Swan

    The swan can swim while sitting down,
    For pure conceit he takes the crown,
    He looks in the mirror over and over,
    And claims to have never heard of Pavlova.

    Finale

    Now we’ve reached the grand finale,
    Animale carnivale.
    Noises new to sea and land,
    Issue from the skillful band.
    All the strings contort their features,
    Imitating crawly creatures.
    All the brasses look like mumps
    From blowing umpah, umpah, umps.
    In outdoing Barnum and Bailey, and Ringling,
    Saint-Saëns has done a miraculous thingling.

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