Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineith slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damn you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.
I found this wonderful, funny poem from one of my readers, a colleague herself in poetry blogging, and simply had to share it with you, readers (also, I'd recommend following her daily poetry blog as well, because unlike mine, it really is daily).
For those unaware, this gem from modernsit Ezra Pound is a parody of a middle English poem and song, which is the earliest piece of sheet music we have extant from the British Isles, "Sumer is Icumen In" which celebrates summer. A recording of it is attached below.
I imagine this Pound parody captures the feelings of many of my fellow New Englanders today, as they dig themselves out of the continually falling snow.