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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116583" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>John Barleycorn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was three kings into the east,<br>Three kings both great and high,<br>And they hae sworn a solemn oath<br>John Barleycorn should die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They took a plough and plough'd him down,<br>Put clods upon his head,<br>And they hae sworn a solemn oath<br>John Barleycorn was dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the cheerful Spring came kindly on,<br>And show'rs began to fall;<br>John Barleycorn got up again,<br>And sore surpris'd them all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sultry suns of Summer came,<br>And he grew thick and strong;<br>His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears,<br>That no one should him wrong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sober Autumn enter'd mild,<br>When he grew wan and pale;<br>His bending joints and drooping head<br>Show'd he began to fail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His colour sicken'd more and more,<br>He faded into age;<br>And then his enemies began<br>To show their deadly rage.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They've taen a weapon, long and sharp,<br>And cut him by the knee;<br>Then tied him fast upon a cart,<br>Like a rogue for forgerie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They laid him down upon his back,<br>And cudgell'd him full sore;<br>They hung him up before the storm,<br>And turned him o'er and o'er.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They filled up a darksome pit<br>With water to the brim;<br>They heaved in John Barleycorn,<br>There let him sink or swim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They laid him out upon the floor,<br>To work him farther woe;<br>And still, as signs of life appear'd,<br>They toss'd him to and fro.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,<br>The marrow of his bones;<br>But a miller us'd him worst of all,<br>For he crush'd him between two stones.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And they hae taen his very heart's blood,<br>And drank it round and round;<br>And still the more and more they drank,<br>Their joy did more abound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">John Barleycorn was a hero bold,<br> Of noble enterprise;<br>For if you do but taste his blood,<br>'Twill make your courage rise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twill make a man forget his woe;<br>'Twill heighten all his joy;<br>'Twill make the widow's heart to sing,<br>Tho' the tear were in her eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then let us toast John Barleycorn,<br>Each man a glass in hand;<br>And may his great posterity<br>Ne'er fail in old Scotland!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Burns">Robert Burns</a><div class=q>
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