Arany János - Győrei Zsolt (szerk.): The trill of the nightingale (Budapest, 2019)
II - „dead bark burning in a hole” - The Poet’s Study (Thomas Cooper)
This room in which I now assail Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! These sheets of paper by the bale Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! Was neither inn nor wayside stop, But rather was the cobblers shop. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! The master craftsman sewed and clipped Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! Made boots and shoes of perfect fit. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! His stretched the leather to the mold. And what he made was promptly sold. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! The shifting seasons brought no grief, Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! The sun, the rain, the changing leaf, Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! Nor flood, nor pox, nor blaring squall Of revolutions clarion call. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! He thrived and prospered, not so I! Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! There’s no call for the trade I ply. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! I craft my wares, and passers-by Don’t even stop to ask the price. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! When war raged I was told forbear, Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! We’ve only a few coins to spare, Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! In peacetime, they beg patience still, We need our coins for other frill. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! Ah, were I not so old and gray Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! I’d gladly put my plume away, Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee! And find a cobbler, and with pride Would serve, apprentice, at his side. Hey ho, hey hi, hey hee!
