Pesma Pre Dorucka

     by Ogden Nash

Hopeful each morning I arise  
And splash the cobwebs from my eyes.      
I brush my teeth and scrape my chin
And bravely at the mirror grin.

Sternly I force myself to say,
Huzza! Huzza! Another day!
Oh happy me! Oh lucky I!
Another chance with life to vie!

Another golden opportunity
To rise and shine in the community!
Another target for my aim!
Another whack at wealth and fame!

Almost I feel within me stir
A budding force of character,
Who knows, indeed, but what I might
Perhaps have altered over night?

Today may be the day, who knows,
That sees me triumph o'er my foes:
Gluttony, simony, and sloth,
And drawing on the table cloth;

Perjury, arson, envy, pride,   
And renting tales of homicide;
Barratry, avarice and wrath
And blowing bubbles in the bath.

The differences this day may bring!
Perhaps I'll work like anything;
I'll travel to my tasks on foot,
And in the bank the carfare put,

And buy a haircut when I need it,
And if I get a letter, read it.
And every eve improve myself
by inching through the Five Foot Shelf.

The things I want to do I won't,
And only do the things I don't.
What lordly aspirations dawn
The while I draw my trousers on!

Oh beamish morning, big with hope
And noble tasks with which to cope,
If I should fail you, do not sorrow;
I'll be a better man tomorrow. 

Voleo bih da mogu da prevedem ovo, ali .... Ostaje mi jedino da uzivam u ritmici Ogdena Nasha.