Doggerel

Part of tonight's homework assignment was to write a little poem that would help us with our pronunciation. The recommended form was the haiku, but I, naturally gravitated toward the limerick. Since the whole exercise has left me completely unable to fall asleep, and Brad is out and about in the Marais, I naturally feel obliged to share the results with you. The scansion is not quite what one would like (neither are the rhymes, for that matter), but one has to amuse oneself somehow.

Une petite jeune fille, Madelin,
Est tombe dans un trou dans le jardin
ni Papa, ni Maman
avait dit a Madelin
"Il y a un grand trou dans le jardin"

Le frere de Madelin, Jean-Martin,
A tue le lapin de Madelin
Maman lui a dit
"Ca n'est pas une tragedie,
On peut manger bien du lapin"

Google translate does reasonably well with the first verse, but falls apart completely in the second:

A small girl, Madelin
Dropped into a hole in the garden
Neither Dad nor Mom
said to Madeline
"There is a large hole in the garden"

Madeline's brother, Jean-Martin
A killer rabbit Madelin
Mom told him
It's not a tragedy
You can eat well in rabbits.

To see my poetic flights of fancy butchered thus hurts me deeply. Though probably not as deeply as that butchered rabbit. Of course, in Paris, we know that it is not the rabbit of Easter who brings of the chocolate, but rather the flying church bells, who even now are lining up for air traffic control clearance at Rome's Fiumicino airport. Clearly it's time to stop, and Brad just got in, so good night all.

David Sedaris reads his priceless piece about the rabbit of easter