Зараза добралась...
Начало положила the_mockturtle вот тут.
Прочие результаты (если кто-то вдруг еще не видел) собраны здесь.
Сева на древо за вишней полез,
Сторож Матвей вынимает обрез.
Выстрел! Раздался пронзительный крик...
Сорок второй!? - ухмыльнулся старик
***
Чем могу вдохновиться я - думаю, понятно.
Seva sat alone in a danger zone,
And munched and mumbled a cherry stone;
For many that day he had ripped away,
For fruit was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
On a cherry-tree he sat alone,
As fruit was hard to come by.
Came Matt at a run with his big old gun.
Said he to Seva: 'Not another'un!
It looks to me like my cherry-tree,
As should be kept in the orchard.
Poacher! Gotcha!
This many a year the manor I've run,
And I know well mine ole orchard. '
Seva said: 'Granddad, many cherries I've had.
For everyone says I'm a perky lad,
Thy old gun's dead as a lump o' lead,
And I can do as me pleases!
Teases! Jesus!
You can spare a share for a poor young lad,
For you don't need your cerises!'
Said Matt: 'I don't see why the likes o' thee
Without axin' leave should go makin' free
With the berry and fruit of my garden's root
So hand the whole lot over!
Rover! Trover!
Though old I be, it belongs to me;
So hand the whole lot over!'
'Then Seva did say, 'This very day
'I'll turn a new leaf and mend my way.
All this stolen food does me little good!
I'll never even look at a cherry now.
Merry now! Berry now!
Please let me go down, and let me pay,
I'll never even think of a cherry now.'
But just as he thought his freedom was bought,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could see, he fell from the tree,
For Matt was quick to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A ball of lead in his side, Matt thought,
Would be the way to larn him.
Much softer than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a lad that sits on a tree alone.
He fell to Matt's boots and the cherry-tree roots,
But the poor little thief didn't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Matt laughed when he heard his last groan,
And he hoped the thief could feel it.
Matt's gun is true, as well he knew,
And his overall score is now forty-two;
But Seva don't care: he's still lying there
With the cherries he stole from their owner.
Doner! Boner!
His manners he had no time to rue,
Nor the cherries he stole from their owner!
PS На правах рекламы! То же - для любителей экзотики :)
Прочие результаты (если кто-то вдруг еще не видел) собраны здесь.
Сева на древо за вишней полез,
Сторож Матвей вынимает обрез.
Выстрел! Раздался пронзительный крик...
Сорок второй!? - ухмыльнулся старик
***
Чем могу вдохновиться я - думаю, понятно.
Seva sat alone in a danger zone,
And munched and mumbled a cherry stone;
For many that day he had ripped away,
For fruit was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
On a cherry-tree he sat alone,
As fruit was hard to come by.
Came Matt at a run with his big old gun.
Said he to Seva: 'Not another'un!
It looks to me like my cherry-tree,
As should be kept in the orchard.
Poacher! Gotcha!
This many a year the manor I've run,
And I know well mine ole orchard. '
Seva said: 'Granddad, many cherries I've had.
For everyone says I'm a perky lad,
Thy old gun's dead as a lump o' lead,
And I can do as me pleases!
Teases! Jesus!
You can spare a share for a poor young lad,
For you don't need your cerises!'
Said Matt: 'I don't see why the likes o' thee
Without axin' leave should go makin' free
With the berry and fruit of my garden's root
So hand the whole lot over!
Rover! Trover!
Though old I be, it belongs to me;
So hand the whole lot over!'
'Then Seva did say, 'This very day
'I'll turn a new leaf and mend my way.
All this stolen food does me little good!
I'll never even look at a cherry now.
Merry now! Berry now!
Please let me go down, and let me pay,
I'll never even think of a cherry now.'
But just as he thought his freedom was bought,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could see, he fell from the tree,
For Matt was quick to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A ball of lead in his side, Matt thought,
Would be the way to larn him.
Much softer than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a lad that sits on a tree alone.
He fell to Matt's boots and the cherry-tree roots,
But the poor little thief didn't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Matt laughed when he heard his last groan,
And he hoped the thief could feel it.
Matt's gun is true, as well he knew,
And his overall score is now forty-two;
But Seva don't care: he's still lying there
With the cherries he stole from their owner.
Doner! Boner!
His manners he had no time to rue,
Nor the cherries he stole from their owner!
PS На правах рекламы! То же - для любителей экзотики :)