Текст оригинала на английском языке
Portrait (Painter, would you make my picture?)
Painter, would you make my picture? Just forget the moral stricture. Let me sit With my belly to the table, Swilling all the wine I'm able, Pip a-lit; Not a stiff and stuffy croaker In a frock coat and a choker Let me be; But a rollicking old fellow With a visage ripe and mellow As you see. Just a twinkle-eyed old codger, And of death as artful dodger, Such I am; I defy the Doc's advising And I don't for sermonising Care a damn. Though Bill Shakespeare had in his dome Both; I'd rather wit than wisdom For my choice; In the glug glug of the bottle, As I tip it down my throttle, I rejoice. Paint me neither sour not soulful, For I would not have folks doleful When I go; So if to my shade you're quaffing I would rather see you laughing, As you know. In Life's Great Experiment I'll have heaps of merriment E're I pass; And though devil beckons me, And I've many a speck on me, Maybe some will recon me - Worth a glass.
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