The Maniac

Why bother me? Away!
Be quickly off, I say!—
Great work I have on hand just now,
I twist a whip with' sweating brow,
From rays of sun, with which I will
Scourge the world till its anguish fill
The air, and I will laugh as she
Laughed, mocking at my misery.
Ha, ha. ha!
For such is life! We laugh and weep
Till death brings its eternal sleep.
I, too, was dead; some years ago
To poison me were mean and low;
Those of my friends who drank my wine,
What did they do? Who can divine?
While I was lying in the shroud.
Embracing me, they cried aloud!
I felt that I could rise and bite
Their noses off, but just for spite
I thought let them their nostrils keep;
When I become a rotten heap
And. decomposed, lie in their way.
From smelling me explode they may!
Ha, ha, ha!

Where did they bury me?
In Africa's sandy sea,
This was most fortunate, for. lo!
Hyena dug me from below;
My only benefactor he.
I cheated him most skilfully;
My limbs he tried to chew and gnaw;
I flung my heart into his jaw.
So bitter was my heart that he
Soon died of it in agony.
Ha, ha, ha!

Alas! this always is the end
Of those who other folk befriend!
But what is man? Tell me, who can.
Some say the root of flowers fair,
Which bloom above in heaven there!
Man is a flower, 'tis true, whose root
Down into deepest hell doth shoot;
I heard a sage discuss these things one day
Who. being a fool, of hunger died, they say;
Instead of cramming learning in his head
Why did he not steal, rob and kill for bread?
Ha, ha, ha!
Why laugh I like a fool here, why?
I should lament and loudly cry,
The world's so bad that even the sky
Will often weep that it gave birth
To such foul creatures as the earth.
But what becomes of heaven's tear?
Falling upon this earth down here,
Men tread upon it with their feet!
— God's tear becomes — mud in the street.
Ha, ha, ha!

A hoary veteran is the sky, ,

The sun, and moon his medals signify,
And thus the brave old soldier fares,
The clouds, the threadbare cloak he wears,
A cross and rag pay for his cares.
Ha, ha, ha!

What means the quail's call in man's tongue,
When chattering in the morning young?
He says of women to beware,

She'll draw you sure into a snare.

Woman is a splendid creature,
Beautiful, though dangerous;

The lovelier in form and feature, " i

The more of peril she brings us.
A deadly drink she serves in cups of gold,
Love's drink, to quaff I often did make bold.
One drop of thee, O! what a heavenly treat!
Yet from one drop such gall can be distilled
As though the sea with poisonous drugs were filled!
Have you seen ocean depths the tempests plough?
They furrow it; death seeds are sown, I trow.
Have you seen tempest, this brown ugly churl,
His lightning flashes o'er the wide sea hurl(?
Ha, ha, ha!

The. fruit when ripe falls from the tree;
Ripe earth, you must be plucked, I see.
Until to-morrow I shall wait
Then, hoary earth, you'll expiate
Your crimes! A great deep hole
I'll dig in thee, and. on parole,
I'll fill it up with powder dry
And blow the earth up to the sky!
Ha, ha, ha!