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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=515870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Of Coarse Fools</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Vile, scolding words do irritate,<br>Good manners thereby will abate<br>If sow-bell's rung from morn to late<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A new St. Ruffian now holds sway,<br>Men celebrate him much today<br>And honour him in every place<br>With words and ways that spell disgrace,<br>And make a jest of ribaldry,<br>Though belted not with decency.<br>Sir Decency is doubtless dead,<br>Fool holds the sow's ear, wags her head,<br>And makes the sow-bell loudly ring<br>So that the sow her ditty sing.<br>The sow leads on and cannot fail,<br>She holds the fools' ship by her tail,<br>That laden down no wreck it be,<br>For that would bring great misery.<br>The wine no fool today would heed<br>That's quite inferior wine, indeed.<br>Full many a litter breeds the sow,<br>And wisdom lives in exile now;<br>The swine on decent people frown,<br>The sow alone now wears the crown.<br>Whoever rings her bell, that man<br>Is now the one who leads the van,<br>While he who does such foolish work<br>As that famed priest of Kalenberg,<br>Or as Monk Islan long of beard,<br>He thinks that he's himself endeared.<br>Some men in folly are so free<br>That if Orestes them could see –<br>He had no brains beneath his hat –<br>He'd say: 'Sane men can't act like that.'<br>'Come clean to village' lost its sense,<br>For peasants drink and give offense.<br>Sir Alderblock is roundly fêted,<br>With Roughenough and Seldom Sated.<br>Most every fool doth love the sow<br>And wants to have his grease box now,<br>Which he keeps filled with donkey's fat.<br>But rarely is it bare of that,<br>Though everyone would take a piece,<br>To keep his bagpipes well in grease.<br>Now grossness everywhere has come<br>And seems to live in every home,<br>And sense and prudence both are dead.<br>What now is written, what is said,<br>Is covered o'er with donkey's fat.<br>Carousers know and cherish that.<br>The sow the matins does recite,<br>The donkey sings the prime all right,<br>St. Ruffian sings the tierce with might,<br>Hatmakers' boys recite the sext,<br>Coarse felters do compose the text.<br>Rude rabble doth recite the none,<br>And gluttoners the words intone,<br>The vespers from a sow's voice ring,<br>Filth, gross untidiness then sing.<br>And lastly the compline is done,<br>When all is full at length is sung.<br>The donkey's fat is potent grease,<br>With sow's fat it is mixed with ease.<br>One reveler smears it on another,<br>If he would have him be his brother.<br>Reserve and modesty 'twill smother.<br>Nor God nor honor then are spared,<br>Lewd things are scrutinized and aired,<br>The one who's quite the foulest swine<br>Is given a brimming glass of wine.<br>Applause is his with vim and zest,<br>He's asked to tell another jest.<br>They say: 'A great success you've scored!<br>You keep us thus from being bored!'<br>As fool to fool they all declare:<br>'Be sociable, gay, debonair!<br>Feti gran scbier e belli sckier!<br>Let's all be cheerful while we're here,<br>Good fellows should rejoice, not pout,<br>Let's laugh and sing, carouse and shout!<br>We've but a little while on earth,<br>Let's spend it wassailing, in mirth.<br>The man who dies will never rise<br>And never walk 'neath sunny skies.<br>Has any mortal ever learned<br>Of mortal men from hell returned,<br>That they might tell us how it's been?<br>To have a good time's not a sin!<br>The priests can say whate'er they may,<br>Let them forbid this, that for aye!<br>If this were sinful, as they claim,<br>Then why, why do they do the same?<br>If priests did not discuss the devil,<br>And shepherds saw in wolves no evil,<br>No one would profit very much.'<br>'Tis fools alone who utter such<br>Remarks, and with their brutal crew<br>Insult the world and God and you,<br>But finally their gain is rue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sebastian+Brant">Sebastian Brant</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=515870" data-title="Of Coarse Fools de Sebastian Brant" data-description="Vile, scolding words do irritate,
Good manners thereby will abate
If sow-bell's rung from morn to late
.


A new St. Ruffian now holds sway,
Men celebrate him much today
And honour him in every place
With words and ways that spell disgrace,
And ma..."></div>
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