What wouldn't I poach -- the rent in my river- side, my otther shoes, my beavery, honest! -- ay, and melt my belt for a dace feast of grannom with the finny ones, those happy greppies in their minnowahaw, flashing down the swansway, leaps … [Continuar leyendo]
449.34-450.02 Podría quedarme allí sentado hasta que…
till I'd followed through my upfielded neviewscope the rugaby moon cumuliously godrolling himself westasleep amuckst the cloudscrums for to watch how carefully my nocturnal goose- mother would lay her new golden sheegg for me down under … [Continuar leyendo]
449.26-34 sentado, de noche, junto al río
I could sit on safe side till the bark of Saint Grouseus for hoopoe's hours, till heoll's hoerrisings, laughing lazy at the sheep's lightning and turn a wida- most ear dreamily to the drummling of snipers, hearing the … [Continuar leyendo]
449.21-26 la pelea, en la noche, de los arbustos
[La pelea] has broken at the coward sight tillwell on into the beausome of the exhaling night, pinching stop-andgo jewels out of the hedges and catching dimtop brilliantson the tip of my wagger but for that owledclock (fast cease to it!)has … [Continuar leyendo]
449.12-21 zorros y pájaros
That's more in my line. I'd ask no kinder of fates than to stay where I am, with my tinny of brownie's tea, under the invocation of Saint Jamas Hanway, servant of Gamp, lapidated, and Jacobus a Pershawm, intercissous, for my thuri- fex, … [Continuar leyendo]