Explore "To the Goddess of Fame" by Taras Shevchenko on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Hail, thou barmaid slovenly, / Stagg'ring like fish-wife drunkenly; / Where the dickens dost thou stay, / With thy stock of haloes, pray?
Was it on credit thou gavest one / To the thief of Versailles, that Corsican?
Perhaps now thou'rt whispering in some fellow's ear; / And all because of boredom or beer.
Come then awhile with me to lodge, / Fondly, together, trouble we'll dodge.
With a smack and a kiss / This dreary weather, / Let's make a bargain / to live together.
Thou'rt a painted queen / with manners free, / Yet in thy company / I'd gladly be.
What though thou holdest / thy nose in air, / Dancest in barrooms / with kings at a fair; / And most with that chap / they call the Tsar; / Still that's no bother, / thy stock's still at par.
Come, my dear, make haste to me, / Let me have a look at thee; / Bestow on me a little smile, / 'Neath thy bright wings / I'd rest a while.