1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase