Читать книгу Plish and Plum - Вильгельм Буш, Busch Wilhelm, Wilhelm Busch - Страница 1

With a pipe between his lips,

Two young dogs upon his hips,

Jogs along old Caspar Sly;

How that man can smoke, – oh, my!

But although the pipe-bowl glows

Red and hot beneath his nose;

Yet his heart is icy-cold;

How can earth such wretches hold!

"Of what earthly use to me

Can such brutes," he mutters, "be?

Do they earn their vittles? No!

'Tis high time I let 'em go.

What you don't want, fling away!

Them's my sentiments, I say!"

O'er the pond he silent bends,

For to drown them he intends.

With their legs the quadrupeds

Kick and squirm, – can't move their heads

And the inner voice speaks out:

How 't will end we gravely doubt.

Hubs!– an airy curve one makes;

Plish!– a headlong dive he takes.

Hubs! – the second follows suit;

Plum!– the wave engulfs the brute.

"That's well ended," Caspar cries,

Puffs away and homeward hies.

But, as often happens, here too

Things don't go as they appear to.

Paul and Peter, – so 'twas fated, —

Naked in the bushes waited

For a swim; and they descry

What was done by wicked Sly.

And like frogs they dove, kechunk,

Where the poor young dogs had sunk.

Quickly each one with his hand

Drags a little dog to land.

"Plish, I'll call my dog," cried Paul;

"Plum," said Peter, "mine I'll call."

Paul and Peter then with pleasure,

Tenderly took each his treasure,

And, with speed and joy past telling,

Steered for the parental dwelling.