Из Эдварда Лира Модник

Жил да был старичок в королевстве Люлюм.
И придумал он странный-престранный костюм.
И когда он закончил кроить и сшивать,
То обновку надел и пошел погулять.
Вместо шляпы надвинул на голову он
Ароматного белого хлеба батон,
А рубаху он сделал из серых мышей
И притом замечательно выглядел в ней.
Нацепил он ботинки из кроличьей кожи
И чулки (он сработал из кожи их тоже),
А жилет и штаны - из говяжьих котлет,
А застежечки - из шоколадных конфет.
Смастерил он пиджак из блинов и варенья
И бисквитовый пояс с застежкой-печеньем,
С огорода капустный листок утащил
И на случай дождя пальтецо смастерил.

Шел и шел старичок. Вдруг он шум услыхал
И зверюлек, птенчат и ребят увидал,
А зверюльки, птенчульки и детки бежали
Изо всех переулков и громко кричали.
Вот коровы взялись за пальто деловито,
Обезьяны - за пояс из свежих бисквитов,
А пиджак из блинов обглодали козлятки,
А остатки тотчас проглотили ягнятки,
А собаки штаны и жилет разодрали,
А кусочки получше щеночкам отдали,
А как только щеночки догрызли котлетки,
Ребятишки стянули застежки-конфетки.

И в испуге домой старичок побежал,
Но споткнулся о хрюшку и в лужу упал...
А собаки, как волки, оскалили пасти
И ботинки с чулками порвали на части.
И попрыгали с крыш под пронзительный вой
Все окрестные кошки и ринулись в бой,
И взобрались на плечи - и шляпу свалили,
А вороны на части ее растащили,
А потом в рукава забрались поскорей
И склевали рубаху из серых мышей.
Проглотили они рубашонку его,
Прибежал он домой - а на нем ничего!
И сказал он себе, заползая за дверь:
“Никогда не оденусь так больше теперь!
Никогда, ни за что! Ни за что, никогда
Не оденусь так больше теперь!”

                Из книги «Полное собрание бессмыслиц» Эдварда Лира

Оригинал:

The new vestments

There lived an old man in the Kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
He opened the door, and walked into the street.
By way of a hat, he'd a loaf of Brown Bread,
In the middle of which he inserted his head;—
His Shirt was made up of no end of dead Mice,
The warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and nice;—
His Drawers were of Rabbit-skins;—so were his Shoes;—
His Stockings were skins,—but it is not known whose;—
His Waistcoat and Trousers were made of Pork Chops;—
His Buttons were Jujubes, and Chocolate Drops;—
His Coat was all Pancakes with Jam for a border,
And a girdle of Biscuits to keep it in order;
And he wore over all, as a screen from bad weather,
A Cloak of green Cabbage-leaves stitched all together.
He had walked a short way, when he heard a great noise,
Of all sorts of Beasticles, Birdlings, and Boys;—
And from every long street and dark lane in the town
Beasts, Birdles, and Boys in a tumult rushed down.
Two Cows and a half ate his Cabbage-leaf Cloak;—
Four Apes seized his Girdle, which vanished like smoke; —
Three Kids ate up half of his Pancaky Coat,—
And the tails were devour'd by an ancient He Goat;—
An army of Dogs in a twinkling tore up his
Pork Waistcoat and Trousers to give to their Puppies;—
And while they were growling, and mumbling the Chops,
Ten Boys prigged the Jujubes and Chocolate drops.

He tried to run back to his house, but in vain,
For Scores of fat Pigs came again and again;—
They rushed out of stables and hovels and doors,—
They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawers;—
And now from the housetops with screechings descend
Striped, spotted, white, black, and gray Cats without end:
They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat,—
When Crows, Ducks, and Hens made a mincemeat of that;—
They speedily flew at his sleeves in a trice,
And utterly tore up his Shirt of dead Mice;—
They swallowed the last of his Shirt with a squall,—
Whereon he ran home with no clothes on at all.

And he said to himself, as he bolted the door,
"I will not wear a similar dress any more,
"Any more, any more, any more, never more!"

                From the book “The complete nonsense” by Edward Lear