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english version by Eleonora Heger Vita 



With blackest moss the flower-plots
  Were thickly crusted, one and all:
The rusted nails fell from the knots
  That held the pear to the gable-wall.
The broken sheds look'd sad and strange:
  Unlifted was the clinking latch;
  Weeded and worn the ancient thatch
Upon the lonely moated grange.
  She only said, ' My life is dreary,
  He cometh not,' she said;
  She said, 'I am aweary, aweary,
  I would that I were dead!
      Alfred Tennyson - Mariana




Long ago once in his life
Beelzebub happened to find
That he wouldn't at all mind
Getting himself a nice wife

He felt an itching in his head
And a thrill in his old heart
And he thought it would be smart
To make a mother of a maid.

Getting married what a scream!
At the thought of such a pleasure
He felt joy beyond all measure
And he fell into a daydream

The sky above was white and blue
And in the wonderful blue meadow under
There was a fountain of cream and butter
Of the most lovely crystalline hue

The Archdevil licked his finger
And suddenly without a pause
The subtle magic humor rose
To his heart and there did linger

This is a dream of pure delight
I must make it become mine
I must get a bride divine
Like a rose of purest white

Like a beautiful proud dove
He flew with outspread wings
Circling in large rings
Foretasting the joys of love

For I am both noble and sage
And I want to reach that sunbeam
And make come true that dream
Worthy of my proud lineage

Now Beelzebub mad with elation
Swoops down like a stone to the ground
But the lovely meadow is no more to be found
No blue grass no brooks no incantation