|
Through all times — preceding, next and present —
Short and strong should be the necks of folks —
Almost from the chins should go the chests and
Should begin the backs right from the noddles.
On the neck that hardly can be spotted,
Comfortably and easy sits the noddle,
For it’s hard to put the fingers on it,
And the lasso can’t be surely thrown.
But they crane their necks to make them longer,
Stand on tiptoe, stretch themselves with force.
If one wants to see what’s further onward,
He should cast a glance o’er the folks’ tops.
Be aware that thou’rt a dark horse now,
Even if thou’st seen a light ahead,
For the cause that insecure’s thy posture,
And open’s for the lasso thy slight neck.
So a wicked jackal full of spite is
Free to sit and count up thy neck’s bones.
Far’s thy sight, but one won’t call far-sighted
Living with the open neck ’midst the folks.
Thou couldst prefer to take no chances,
Hunching up thy shoulders round thy chin,
But hope not to get admiring glances,
If thy noddle’s so miserably pinned.
And they crane their necks to make them longer,
Stand on tiptoe, stretch themselves with force.
If one wants to see what’s further onward,
He should cast a glance o’er the folks’ tops.
Being in the East, I’ve heard this story
From a native man, gray-haired and wise.
“Oh, my God! here even folk tales are gory,”
Thought I, and checked out my neck for size.
1973.
|