Edvard Søderberg: Poems of the Street
Antonius – yes, you know him, indeed;
a small guy, who seemed so weak,
who chose one day to hang himself
in despair - on the neck of a woman.
You know, the tobacco-lady
with crossed eyes and curly hair!
A doll, I’ll say you, with scarlet skirt
and floral blouse; be aware.
An old bitch, as big and fat
as an icon among the heathens,
but rich in worldly means – and you know
our poor friend was down to the dregs.
So as said, someday in wild despair
he put on his Sunday clothes and went
as resolutely as possible can,
and simply proposed to the woman.
It worked – unfortunately! The old sow
the event with festivitas bore.
And from that day on our dear old friend’s
good mood went out the back door:
He’s never seen; with Argus’ eyes
she kept him close and never at peace.
Her door she closed every night
precisely at ten, and hid the key.
But what a luck: one morning
a fishbone lodged itself in her throat
and she died before the doctor came –
I was there at the burial procession.
That was a sight – a moving one!
He cried when the priest said Amen! -
And then he invited the lot of us,
to come down to Mathisen’s joint –
And he treated us with plenty of food
and wine and beer was there too. -
But then he kissed the host’s wife
and got beaten in the ensuing fight.