When one with t'other straightaway agrees
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
With gravity at gravity's great cog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum