Index





The English Schoolmaster in China
(apologies to Oliver Goldsmith)


Beside yon Chinese Wall that skirts the way
With border'd parapets keeping all at bay,
There, in oriental mansion, skill'd to rule,
The English Master drills his little school;
A man laid back he is, and tall to view,
I know him well, the Chinese students too;
Well have the slumbering backrow learn'd to trace
The day's translating in his morning face;
Full well they laugh with adulatory glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke has he:
Full well the chinese whisper, circling round,
Conveys the pain of baijiu that he'd down'd:
Yet he is kind; or if severe in aught,
The love he bares to learning is in fault.
The Natives all declare it [but in Wu];
'Tis certain he can write. And sporting too:
Grids he can measure, trivial pursuits presage,
And e'en the story runs he is a Sage.
In arguing too, the Chinese own his skill,
For e'en though vanquish'd he can argue still;
While words of learned length and thund'ring sound
Amaze the gazing students rang'd around;
When Ben said "Fuck" t'was meant as 'kung-ho' praise,
This English mandarin for sure continues to amaze.
And still they gaze and still the wonder grows,
That one small head can carry all he knows.


Rick
7.xii.10