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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Spring Song</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The world 'as got me snouted jist a treat;<br> Crool Forchin's dirty left 'as smote me soul;<br>An' all them joys o' life I 'eld so sweet<br> Is up the pole.<br>Fer, as the poit sez, me 'eart 'as got<br>The pip wiv yearnin' fer -- I dunno wot.<br> <br>I'm crook; me name is Mud; I've done me dash;<br> Me flamin' spirit's got the flamin' 'ump!<br>I'm longin' to let loose on somethin' rash....<br> Aw, I'm a chump!<br>I know it; but this blimed ole Springtime craze<br>Fair outs me, on these dilly, silly days.<br> <br>The young green leaves is shootin' on the trees,<br> The air is like a long, cool swig o' beer,<br>The bonzer smell o' flow'rs is on the breeze<br> An 'ere's me, 'ere,<br>Jist mooching around like some pore, barmy coot,<br>Of 'ope, an' joy, an' forchin destichoot.<br> <br>I've lorst me former joy in gettin' shick,<br> Or 'eadin' browns; I 'aven't got the 'eart<br>To word a tom; an' square an' all, I'm sick<br> Of that cheap tart<br>'Oo chucks 'er carcis at a feller's 'head<br>An' mauls 'im ... Ar! I wish't that I wus dead!...<br> <br>Ther's little breezes stirrin' in the leaves,<br> An sparrers chirpin' 'igh the 'ole day long;<br>An 'on the air a sad, sweet music breaves<br> A bonzer song --<br>A mournful sorter choon thet gits a bloke<br>Fair in the brisket 'ere, an' makes 'im choke...<br> <br>What is the matter wiv me? ... I dunno.<br> I got a sorter yearning 'ere inside,<br>A dead-crook sorter thing that won't let go<br> Or be denied --<br>A feelin' I want to do a break,<br>An' stoush creation for some woman's sake.<br> <br>The little birds is chirpin' in the nest,<br> The parks an' gardings is a bosker sight,<br>Where smilin' tarts walks up an' down, all dressed<br> In clobber white.<br>An', as their snowy forms goes steppin' by,<br>It seems I'm seekin' something on the sly.<br> <br>Somethin' or someone -- I don't rightly know;<br> But, seems to me, I'm kind er lookin' for<br>A tart I knoo a 'undred years ago,<br> Or, maybe, more.<br>Wot's this I've 'eard them call that thing? ... Geewhizz!<br>Me ideel bit o' skirt! That's wot it is!<br> <br>Me ideel tart! ... An, bli'me, look at me!<br> Jist take a squiz at this, an' tell me can<br>Some square an' honist tom take this to be<br> 'Er own true man?<br>Aw, Gawd! I'd be as true to 'er, I would --<br>As straight an' stiddy as ... Ar, wot's the good?<br> <br>Me, that 'as done me stretch fer stoushin' Johns,<br> An' spen's me leisure getting on the shick,<br>An' 'arf me nights down there in Little Lon.,<br> Wiv Ginger Mick,<br>Jist 'eading 'em, an' doing in me gilt.<br>Tough luck! I s'pose it's 'ow a man is built.<br> <br>It's 'ow Gawd builds a bloke; but don't it 'urt<br> When 'e gits yearnin's fer this 'igher life,<br>On these Spring mornin's, watchin' some sweet skirt --<br> Some fucher wife --<br>Go sailin' by, an' turnin' on his phiz<br>The glarssy eye -- fere bein' wot 'e is.<br> <br>I've watched 'em walkin' in the gardings 'ere --<br> Cliners from orfices an' shops an' such;<br>The sorter skirts I dursn't come too near,<br> Or dare to touch.<br>An, when I see the kind er looks they carst ...<br>Gorstooth! Wot is the use o' me, I arst?<br> <br>Wot wus I slung 'ere for? An' wot's the good<br> Of yearnin' after any ideel tart?<br>Ar, if a bloke wus only understood!<br> 'E's got a 'eart:<br>'E's got a soul inside 'im, poor or rich.<br>But wot's the use, when 'Eaven's crool'd 'is pitch?<br> <br>I tells meself some day I'll take a pull<br> An' look around fer some good, stiddy job,<br>An' cut the push fer good an' all; I'm full<br> Of that crook mob!<br>An', in some Spring the fucher 'olds in store,<br>I'll cop me prize an' long in vain no more.<br> <br>The little winds is stirrin' in the trees,<br> Where little birds is chantin' lovers' lays;<br>The music of the sorft an' barmy breeze ...<br> Aw, spare me days!<br>If this 'ere dilly feelin' doesn't stop<br>I'll lose me block an' stoush some flamin' cop!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357399" data-title="A Spring Song de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="The world 'as got me snouted jist a treat;
 Crool Forchin's dirty left 'as smote me soul;
An' all them joys o' life I 'eld so sweet
 Is up the pole.
Fer, as the poit sez, me 'eart 'as got
The pip wiv yearnin' fer -- I dunno wot.
 
I'm crook; me na..."></div>
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