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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-02-28 | [Этот текст следует читать на // Русском romana] | Submited by Alexandra Mihalcea A DOLL in the doll-makers house Looks at the cradle and balls: That is an insult to us. But the oldest of all the dolls Who had seen, being kept for show, Generations of his sort, Out-screams the whole shelf: Although There's not a man can report Evil of this place, The man and the woman bring Hither to our disgrace, A noisy and filthy thing. Hearing him groan and stretch The doll-maker¹s wife is aware Her husband has heard the wretch, And crouched by the arm of his chair, She murmurs into his ear, Head upon shoulder leant: My dear, my dear, oh dear, It was an accident.
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