A SCENARIO
The time—a glorious summer afternoon.The place—somewhere along the Palisades.Rocks here and there; some trees and many bushes.A youthful artist, seated on a rock,With great strokes paints the sun-illumined Hudson.A fair young woman enters on the scene,Absorbed in picking many kinds of flowers.The youthful artist, catching sight of her,Stands up and drops his palette and his brushes.And when she sees the youth she drops the flowers.They stand in silence looking at each other.He then approaches her to raise her flowers—And then she smiles, and he says foolish things,Deliciously absurd and foolish things.The insects are abuzzing, and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering—are gossiping in whispers.He takes her by the hand and kisses her,He kisses her and takes her in his arms,And carries her behind a clump of bushes.
The time—a glorious summer afternoon.The place—somewhere along the Palisades.Rocks here and there; some trees and many bushes.A youthful artist, seated on a rock,With great strokes paints the sun-illumined Hudson.A fair young woman enters on the scene,Absorbed in picking many kinds of flowers.The youthful artist, catching sight of her,Stands up and drops his palette and his brushes.And when she sees the youth she drops the flowers.They stand in silence looking at each other.He then approaches her to raise her flowers—And then she smiles, and he says foolish things,Deliciously absurd and foolish things.The insects are abuzzing, and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering—are gossiping in whispers.He takes her by the hand and kisses her,He kisses her and takes her in his arms,And carries her behind a clump of bushes.
The time—a glorious summer afternoon.The place—somewhere along the Palisades.Rocks here and there; some trees and many bushes.
The time—a glorious summer afternoon.
The place—somewhere along the Palisades.
Rocks here and there; some trees and many bushes.
A youthful artist, seated on a rock,With great strokes paints the sun-illumined Hudson.
A youthful artist, seated on a rock,
With great strokes paints the sun-illumined Hudson.
A fair young woman enters on the scene,Absorbed in picking many kinds of flowers.
A fair young woman enters on the scene,
Absorbed in picking many kinds of flowers.
The youthful artist, catching sight of her,Stands up and drops his palette and his brushes.And when she sees the youth she drops the flowers.
The youthful artist, catching sight of her,
Stands up and drops his palette and his brushes.
And when she sees the youth she drops the flowers.
They stand in silence looking at each other.He then approaches her to raise her flowers—And then she smiles, and he says foolish things,Deliciously absurd and foolish things.
They stand in silence looking at each other.
He then approaches her to raise her flowers—
And then she smiles, and he says foolish things,
Deliciously absurd and foolish things.
The insects are abuzzing, and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering—are gossiping in whispers.
The insects are abuzzing, and the leaves—
The foliage of the bushes and the trees
Are whispering—are gossiping in whispers.
He takes her by the hand and kisses her,He kisses her and takes her in his arms,And carries her behind a clump of bushes.
He takes her by the hand and kisses her,
He kisses her and takes her in his arms,
And carries her behind a clump of bushes.
The time and place and scene just as before.From left to right there enters on the sceneQuite simultaneously a man and woman.Each reads a book while walking, so absorbedThat they well-nigh collide with one another.He begs her pardon which, of course, she grants.He asks her if they have not met before,Her face seems so familiar, and she says:Perhaps he saw her somewhere at a lecture.And so they start to talk about their books,About their lectures and about their books.They seat themselves upon a rock and talk,And talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.The insects are abuzzing and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering, are gossiping in whispers.And from behind the softly swaying bushesEscape the sounds of kisses and of sighs,The kisses and the sighs of youthful lovers.And all the time the woman and the manSit arguing, discussing and discussingPsychology, sociology and ethics.So different it is behind the bushes.And while some hug and kiss and others argue,A sudden gloom spreads over everything.The azure sky is now a sky of ink,The lightning flashes and the thunder claps,The shower is terrific’ly intense.Both couples find an overhanging rock,A scanty shelter ’gainst a raging storm.A blinding lightning flash, a thunder clap,All four lie dead.Is there a moral?Guess!
The time and place and scene just as before.From left to right there enters on the sceneQuite simultaneously a man and woman.Each reads a book while walking, so absorbedThat they well-nigh collide with one another.He begs her pardon which, of course, she grants.He asks her if they have not met before,Her face seems so familiar, and she says:Perhaps he saw her somewhere at a lecture.And so they start to talk about their books,About their lectures and about their books.They seat themselves upon a rock and talk,And talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.The insects are abuzzing and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering, are gossiping in whispers.And from behind the softly swaying bushesEscape the sounds of kisses and of sighs,The kisses and the sighs of youthful lovers.And all the time the woman and the manSit arguing, discussing and discussingPsychology, sociology and ethics.So different it is behind the bushes.And while some hug and kiss and others argue,A sudden gloom spreads over everything.The azure sky is now a sky of ink,The lightning flashes and the thunder claps,The shower is terrific’ly intense.Both couples find an overhanging rock,A scanty shelter ’gainst a raging storm.A blinding lightning flash, a thunder clap,All four lie dead.Is there a moral?Guess!
The time and place and scene just as before.From left to right there enters on the sceneQuite simultaneously a man and woman.Each reads a book while walking, so absorbedThat they well-nigh collide with one another.He begs her pardon which, of course, she grants.He asks her if they have not met before,Her face seems so familiar, and she says:Perhaps he saw her somewhere at a lecture.And so they start to talk about their books,About their lectures and about their books.They seat themselves upon a rock and talk,And talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.The insects are abuzzing and the leaves—The foliage of the bushes and the treesAre whispering, are gossiping in whispers.And from behind the softly swaying bushesEscape the sounds of kisses and of sighs,The kisses and the sighs of youthful lovers.And all the time the woman and the manSit arguing, discussing and discussingPsychology, sociology and ethics.So different it is behind the bushes.And while some hug and kiss and others argue,A sudden gloom spreads over everything.The azure sky is now a sky of ink,The lightning flashes and the thunder claps,The shower is terrific’ly intense.Both couples find an overhanging rock,A scanty shelter ’gainst a raging storm.A blinding lightning flash, a thunder clap,All four lie dead.Is there a moral?Guess!
The time and place and scene just as before.
From left to right there enters on the scene
Quite simultaneously a man and woman.
Each reads a book while walking, so absorbed
That they well-nigh collide with one another.
He begs her pardon which, of course, she grants.
He asks her if they have not met before,
Her face seems so familiar, and she says:
Perhaps he saw her somewhere at a lecture.
And so they start to talk about their books,
About their lectures and about their books.
They seat themselves upon a rock and talk,
And talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.
The insects are abuzzing and the leaves—
The foliage of the bushes and the trees
Are whispering, are gossiping in whispers.
And from behind the softly swaying bushes
Escape the sounds of kisses and of sighs,
The kisses and the sighs of youthful lovers.
And all the time the woman and the man
Sit arguing, discussing and discussing
Psychology, sociology and ethics.
So different it is behind the bushes.
And while some hug and kiss and others argue,
A sudden gloom spreads over everything.
The azure sky is now a sky of ink,
The lightning flashes and the thunder claps,
The shower is terrific’ly intense.
Both couples find an overhanging rock,
A scanty shelter ’gainst a raging storm.
A blinding lightning flash, a thunder clap,
All four lie dead.
Is there a moral?
Guess!