Complete Works of James Joyce (330 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of James Joyce
6.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Ecce Pu
e
r

 

Of the dark past

A child is born.

With joy and grief

My heart is torn.

 

Calm in his cradle

The living lies.

May love and mercy

Unclose his eyes!

 

Young life is breathed

On the glass;

The world that was not

Comes to pass.

 

A child is sleeping:

An old man gone.

O, father forsaken,

Forgive your son!

G. O’Donne
l
l

 

Poor little Georgie, the son of a lackey,

Famous for ‘murphies’, spirits, and ‘baccy

Renowned all around for a feathery head

Which had a tendency to become red.

His genius was such that all men used to stare,

His appearance was that of a bull at a fair.

The pride of Kilmainham, the joy of the class,

A moony, a loony, an idiot, an ass.

Drumcondra’s production, and by the same rule,

The prince of all pot-boys, a regular fool.

All hail to the beauteous, the lovely, all hail

And hail to his residence in Portland gaol.

There was an old lady named Grego
r
y

 

There was an old lady named Gregory

Who said: ‘Come, all ye poets in beggary.’

But she found her imprudence

When hundreds of students

Cried: ‘We’re in that noble category.’

There was a young priest named Delan
e
y

 

There was a young priest named Delaney

Who said to the girls, ‘
Nota bene,

’Twould tempt the archbishop

The way that you swish up

Your skirts when the weather is rainy.’

There is a weird poet called Russel
l

 

There is a weird poet called Russell

Who wouldn’t eat even a mussel

When chased by an oyster

He ran to a cloister

Away from the beef and the bustle.

 

The cloister he called the ‘Hermetic’

I found it a fine diuretic

A most energetic

And mental emetic

Heretic, prophetic, ascetic.

A holy Hegelian Kett
l
e

 

A holy Hegelian Kettle

Has faith which we cannot unsettle

If no one abused it

He might have reduced it

But now he is quite on his mettle.

John Eglinton, my Jo, Joh
n

 

John Eglinton, my Jo, John,

When last had you a — ?

I fear ye canna go, John,

Although ye are na spent.

O
       
begin to fel’ John,

Ye canna mak’ it flow,

And even if it swell, John

The lassies wadna know.

 

John Eglinton, my Jo, John,

   
I dinna like to say

Of course ye must have sinned, John

When ye were young and gay

It canna be remorse, John,

That keeps ye fra a ride

Your virtue is a farce, John,

Ye cardna if ye tried

Have you heard of the admir
a
l

 

Have you heard of the admiral, Togo,

Who said to the girls, it is no go;

   
But when we come back,

   
Then each jolly Jack -

Yókogó! Yókogó! Yókogó!’

 

There once was a Celtic librari
a
n

 

There once was a Celtic librarian

Whose essays were voted Spencerian,

His name is Magee

But it seems that to me

He’s a flavour that’s more Presbyterian.

Dear, I am asking a favou
r

 

Dear, I am asking a favour

Little enough

This, that thou shouldst entype me

This powdery puff

 

I had no heart for your troubling,

Dearest, did I

Only possess a typewriter or

Money to buy

 

Thine image, dear, rosily litten

Ever shall be

Thereafter that thou hast typewritten

These things for me —

O, there are two brothers, the Fa
y
s

 

O, there are two brothers, the Fays,

Who are excellent players of plays,

   
And, needless to mention, all

   
Most unconventional,

Filling the world with amaze.

 

But I angered these brothers, the Fays,

Whose ways are conventional ways,

   
For I lay in my urine

   
While ladies so pure in

White petticoats ravished my gaze.

The Sorrow of Lo
v
e

 

If any told the blue ones that

   
mountain-footed move,

They would bend down and with batons,

   
belabour my love.

C’era una volta, una bella bambin
a

 

C’era una volta, una bella bambina

Che si chiamava Lucia

Dormiva durante il giorno

Dormiva durante la notte

Perché non sapeva camminare

Perché non sapeva camminare

Dormiva durante il giorno

Dormiva durante la notte.

The flower I gave rejected li
e
s

 

The flower I gave rejected lies.

Sad is my lot for all to see.

Humiliation burns my eyes.

The Grace of God abandons me.

 

As Alberic sweet love forswore

The power of cursed gold to wield

So you, who lust for metal ore,

Forswear me for a Copperfield.

 

Rejoice not yet in false bravado

The pimpernel you flung away

Shall torchlike burn your El Dorado.

Vengeance is mine. I will repay.

There is a young gallant named S
a
x

 

There is a young gallant named Sax

Who is prone to hayfever attacks

   
For the prime of the year

   
To Cupid so dear

Stretches maidens - and men! - on their backs.

There’s a monarch who knows no repo
s
e

 

There’s a monarch who knows no repose

For he’s dressed in a dual trunk hose

   
And ever there itches

   
Some part of his breeches;

How he stands it the Lord only knows.

Lament for the Yeome
n

 

A translation of Felix Beran’s “Des Weibes Klage”

And now is come the war, the war:

And now is come the war, the war:

And now is come the war, the war.

War! War!

 

For soldiers are they gone now:

For soldiers all.

Soldiers and soldiers!

All! All!

 

Soldiers must die, must die.

Soldiers all must die.

Soldiers and soldiers and soldiers

Must die.

 

What man is there to kiss now,

To kiss, to kiss,

O white soft body, this

Thy soft sweet whiteness?

There’s a donor of lavish larges
s
e

 

There’s a donor of lavish largesse

Who once bought a play in MS

   
He found out what it all meant

   
By the final instalment

But poor Scriptor was left in a mess.

There is a clean climber called Syke
s

 

There is a clean climber called Sykes

Who goes scrambling o’er ditches and dikes,

   
To skate on his scalp

   
Down the side of an alp

Is the kind of diversion he likes.

There once was a lounger named Steph
e
n

 

There once was a lounger named Stephen

Whose youth was most odd and uneven.

   
He throve on the smell

   
Of a horrible hell

That a Hottentot wouldn’t believe in.

Now let awhile my messmates
b
e

 

Now let awhile my messmates be

My ponderous Penelope

And my Ulysses born anew

In Dublin as an Irish jew.

With them I’ll sit, with them I’ll drink

Nor heed what press and pressmen think

Nor leave their rockbound house of joy

For Helen or for windy Troy.

Other books

Awakened by Julia Sykes
Hard by Kathryn Thomas
The Mating of Michael by Eli Easton
El Aliento de los Dioses by Brandon Sanderson
The Field of Fight: How We Can Win the Global War Against Radical Islam and Its Allies by Lieutenant General (Ret.) Michael T. Flynn, Michael Ledeen
Misfortune Cookie by Casey Wyatt
Whatever: a novel by Michel Houellebecq
Cold-Blooded Beautiful by Christine Zolendz
Dark Obsession by Allison Chase