Cat and Mice : 無料・フリー素材/写真
Cat and Mice / Giles Watson's poetry and prose
| ライセンス | クリエイティブ・コモンズ 表示-継承 2.1 |
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| 説明 | Misericord: Beverley Minster.A WILY WARNING: The poems attached to images in this set are based on the mediaeval French romances of Reynard the Fox. As mediaeval people had a much more bawdy approach to life than we do, some people may find the content of the poems rather offensive. They contain swearing, sex, sacrilege, violence, and sometimes a combination of all four. Sorry.REYNARD AND THE TITReynard is weeping beneath a hollow oak -He lost his grip on Chantecler, it makes him want to choke,His tummy grumbles like a bear; his lamenting is laconic:“I’m defeated by a cockrel - what could be more moronic?”A little tit sits on the branch; she looks down on Reynard;His eyes are covered by his paws; he’s groaning, “Life is hard!”But suddenly he sees the tit; his eyes turn grim and cruel,His tongue is lolling and his canines drip with lots of drool.“How nice to see you, dear tit! Why, verily, ‘tis bliss!Flutter down and give Reynard a gentle little kiss!”“Not on your nelly,” says the tit, “I know you all too well!I’d sooner kiss a stinking demon from the depths of hell.”“Dear cousin tit,” the fox persists, “You wrong me with such libel!Why, I will do you little harm - I’ll swear it on the Bible!I’ll even close my eyes,” he says, “so you won’t have to worry!Now come, and don’t be churlish, tit, but kiss me in a hurry.”The tit came down and in her beak she held a clump of moss,She brushed his whiskers; he snapped his jaws, “Now I’m really cross!You didn’t trust me,” grins Reynard, “I prithee, tit, why not?I offer you a humble kiss and you suspect some plot!Why are all the creatures here so blatantly untrusting?”He lies upon his russet back, his muzzle upward thrusting.The tit flits down, he snaps again, she flutters far above.“O! See how this poor fox is shunned, who offers tits his love!”Just then, six hounds burst through the green; Reynard yelps for fear;The tit scolds, “Reynard! Are you craven? You must come back here!With tail between your legs, indeed! You promised me a snog!”She laughs aloud and flaps her wings upon her hollow log.They snap at him, they worry him, they hurtle through the gorse,A hunting monk brings up the rear, upon a panting horse;At last he shakes them off his trail, for mastiffs have no wit;He pants and bleeds and from the branches laughs the little tit:“Alas poor Reynard, cousin dear, your coat is rent and torn;Your belly’s empty and your eyes are weeping and forlorn.I’d offer you some solace but, instead, I’ll give you this!I’ll crap upon your head, since you withheld from me your kiss!” REYNARD AND TYBERTTybert the cat plays in a forest glade,Reynard is watching him from the leafy shade:He’s chasing his tail, pouncing like a kitten,Though fearsome is his pursuit, the tail will not be bitten.Tybert, Tybert, my furry feline friend,Though you chase your tail, snares will catch it in the end!“Welcome, Sir Reynard,” Tybert gives a grin,“You’re looking bedraggled, you’re destitute and thin!”Reynard gives a lowly growl, opening his jaw;He crouches amid the dust and slowly licks his paw.Reynard, Reynard, my russet vulpine friend,Though you may lick your paw, snares will catch it in the end!“Tybert,” says Reynard, “good feline fat and hairy,Perhaps you will join my band, a worthy mercenary?For I’m engaging Isengrin the wolf in all-out war.”Tybert purrs and licks his coat upon the forest floor.Tybert, Tybert, my furry feline friend,Though you lick your coat, men will flay it in the end!Then off they went together, though each despised the other,The cat swore his fealty on the gonads of his mother.The fox licked his lips, he saw a trap set in their way,And straight away he saw his chance, sly Tybert to betray.Reynard, Reynard, my russet vulpine friend,Well may you lick your lips, you’ll feed vultures in the end!“You’re lithe and you’re quick, cat, I find it quite impressive,Your eyes glow like cinders when you are aggressive:Show me how quickly you can run down this track.”Tybert gives a lowly yowl and arches his back.Tybert, Tybert, my furry feline friend,Well may you arch your back, ‘twill be broken in the end!Tybert isn’t stupid; he quickly spots the snare,He somersaults over it as if it isn’t there,And wily Reynard winks his eye, he says with a smile,“I never saw a feline run with such ungainly style!”Reynard, Reynard, my russet vulpine friend,Well may you wink your eye, ‘twill be poked out in the end!“Come then,” says Tybert, I’ll have another try!”He pounces above the trap, and onward does he fly.Reynard is frowning, he scratches at his flank;Two slavering mastiffs hurtle down the woodland bank.Tybert, Tybert, my furry feline friend,Well may you run away, you’ll be mincemeat in the end!Reynard starts to hurry off, he leaps o’er the snare,But calmly on the other side, Tybert’s waiting there,He trips the fox and drags him down, his leg lands on the trap,And Reynard yelps as iron jaws close on him with a snap.Reynard, Reynard, my russet vulpine friend,Well may you yelp and yowl, for now you meet your end!The dogs tear Reynard’s bleeding flesh; howling with pain,He swears his vengeance on the cat, they tear at him again.A peasant runs up with an axe to chop off Reynard’s head,And ruefully the wounded fox wishes Tybert dead:Tybert, Tybert, my furry feline friend,Although you are laughing now, you’ll be weeping in the end!Down comes the sharpened axe, it misses Reynard’s head;It lands upon the iron snare, breaks it apart instead,And Reynard, limping, runs away, bleeding on the ground,And though the mastiffs track him still, the fox may not be found.Reynard, Reynard, my russet vulpine friend,Although you live another day, they’ll catch you in the end!FOR AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY FOR THESE SONGS, PLEASE GO TO THE REYNARD THE FOX SET ON MY PHOTOSTREAM. |
| 撮影日 | 2008-11-22 13:15:08 |
| 撮影者 | Giles Watson's poetry and prose , Oxfordshire, England |
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