Pffft, English. Who Needs That? I'm Never

The Ugliest Man Was He Who Came To Troy; With Squinting Eyes And One Distorted Foot.

Now From His Breast Into The Eyes The Ache Of Longing Mounted, And He Wept At Last, His Dear Wife, Clear And Faithful, In His Arms, Longed For As The Sunwarmed Earth Is Longed For By A Swimmer Spent In Rough Water Where His Ship Went Down Under Poseidon's Blows, Gale Winds And Tons Of Sea. Few Men Can Keep Alive Through A Big Serf To Crawl, Clotted With Brine, On Kindly Beaches In Joy, In Joy, Knowing The Abyss Behind: And So She Too Rejoiced, Her Gaze Upon Her Husband, Her White Arms Round Him Pressed As Though Forever.

It Is Equally Bad When One Speeds On The Guest Unwilling To Go, And When He Holds Back One Who Is Hastening. Rather One Should Befriend The Guest Who Is There, But Speed Him When He Wishes.

Oh, Look At Me! I'm Making People Happy! I'm The Magical Man From Happy-land, In A Gumdrop House On Lollipop Lane! Oh, By The Way, I Was Being Sarcastic.

She Spoke And Loosened From Her Bosom The Embroidered Girdle Of Many Colors Into Which All Her Allurements Were Fashioned. In It Was Love And Int Desire Which Steals The Mind Even Of The Wise.