I was idly watching the Sunday go by when for no apparent reason I remembered some fun fan poetry that I meant to post in a separate post long ago. Maybe today is the day, with nothing else happening? I really think you will have fun with some of this. And it goes to prove the point that it is well worth reading comment strands on posts. There are true gems to be found in there, honest.
So, we were going about our business on the comment thread of one of my *ooof*s over on me+r when inspiration struck and Kathy Jones started waxing lyrical. The context was an imagined male underwear collection called “The Line of Durin”, modelled by the Durin boys. And Kathy came out with this gem:
There once was a man with a pelt,
Who sported a big shiny belt,
Though wearing much fur,
He was far from demure,
For his hotness resembled a smelt.
This was obviously a gauntlet flung at Hedgehogess’s feet. She rose to the challenge and responded with a poem of her own – in her native German.
Thorin in seinem Berge saß
und Kathy Jonesens Oden las.
Er wollte seinem Aug’ kaum trauen:
“Was mach’ ich nur mit diesen Frauen?!”
Doch die Idee kam ihm geschwind:
“Am besten ist’s, wenn ich sie bind’!”
Er ließ ein Lager vorbereiten,
mit starken Pfosten an den Seiten.
Dann griff er Kathy blitzeschnelle,
warf sie auf die weichen Felle,
band sie fest an den Pfosten an
– und stellte klar: Er ist ein Mann!
Before you scream murder and “language”!!! Yes, the rudeness of foreign language exclusivity was already addressed back then, and yours truly very inadequately translated Hedgehogess’s masterpiece into English:
Thorin in his mountain sat
Kathy Jones’s odes he read
He hardly dared believe his eyes,
“What to do with these wives?”
Quickly a thought entered his brain
“How about if they are restrained?”
He had a bed quickly set-up
strong posts at the sides held it up
He put Kathy under duress,
in the furs she was pressed
and he tied her to the frame,
to show her that he is a man.
To add insult to injury
and self-reference to egocentricity Hedgehogess proceeded to write a little rhyme for Guylty. Back to German:
Als Künstler und als Fotografin
käm’s Guylty niemals in den Sinn,
ein Bild einfach nur anzusehen,
nein, sie muss es auch verstehen.
Pose, Blende, Schärfe, Tiefe –
nicht zu vergessen Perspektive –
reichlich wird’s analysiert
und gleich genauestens notiert.
Mit Adleraugen wird betracht’,
was sich ein Fotograf gedacht,
der Mr. A hat abgelichtet
– und dann ein Ficletchen gedichtet.
So ist denn Guylty ungerührt,
wenn sie uns in die Bildwelt führt.
Richard, Lucas, Thorin, Guy …
Ooof! thud Oh wei, oh wei.
n the interest of keeping Guylty grounded no English translation has been provided. Well, I’ll give you the last two verses, because they are evocative:
Richard, Lucas, Thorin, Guy …
Ooof! thud Oh my, oh my.
You must agree with me that this is pretty potent stuff. And that we have some poets amongst our select group of RA well-wishers.
I wonder whether we could commission them to write a proper ode to RA or something like that? And what would we have to do in return??? In any case, how lovely to see creativity break out in the unlikeliest of places.
Maybe you feel inspired by Hedgehogess and Kathy Jones yourself? A little love-letter to ‘yer man’? You know, his birthday is coming up soon. Have you sent him your best wishes yet? Or consoled him for adding yet another year to his load? Or just congratulated him on his fabulous run as John Proctor? When I was in London two weeks ago, I posted a letter for an American friend. Here is an extremely rare sighting of Guylty, dropping the letter in the mail. She usually makes sure not to be caught on camera, for obvious reasons (careful, Guylty Proboscis in sharp profile):
Oh, and in case you don’t know how to address your letter, just click on this and you’ll see.
Hurry – only five days to go! Happy Sunday, everyone ❤