Mary, Pity Women!

You call yourself a man,
For all you used to swear,
An` leave me, as you can,
My certain shame to bear?
I `ear! You do not care --
You done the worst you know.
I `ate you, grinnin` there. . . .
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

Nice while it lasted, an` now it is over --
Tear out your `eart an` good-bye to your lover!
What`s the use o` grievin`, when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?

It aren`t no false alarm,
The finish to your fun;
You -- you `ave brung the `arm,
An` I`m the ruined one;
An` now you`ll off an` run
With some new fool in tow.
Your `eart? You `aven`t none. . . .
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

When a man is tired there is naught will bind `im;
All `e solemn promised `e will shove be`ind `im.
What`s the good o` prayin` for The Wrath to strike `im
(Mary, pity women!), when the rest are like `im?

What `ope for me or -- it?
What`s left for us to do?
I`ve walked with men a bit,
But this -- but this is you.
So `elp me Christ, it`s true!
Where can I `ide or go?
You coward through and through! . . .
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

All the more you give `em the less are they for givin` --
Love lies dead, an` you cannot kiss `im livin`.
Down the road `e led you there is no returnin`
(Mary, pity women!), but you`re late in learnin`!

You`d like to treat me fair?
You can`t, because we`re pore?
We`d starve? What do I care!
We might, but ~this~ is shore!
I want the name -- no more --
The name, an` lines to show,
An` not to be an `ore. . . .
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

What`s the good o` pleadin`, when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?
Sleep on `is promises an` wake to your sorrow
(Mary, pity women!), for we sail to-morrow!

Czytaj dalej: Back To The Army Again - Rudyard Kipling