Pjat! Pjat!
Om Theebordet sidder de Damer smukt;
- ak, Munden er aldrig paa dem lukt!
Pjat! Pjat!
Den ene taler om Silke og Baand,
Den anden viser sin hvide Haand,
Den tredje her er poetisk stemt,
Hun sværmer for Schiller saa det er slemt.
Pjat! Pjat!
Om Politikken der snakkes nu lidt,
Ja, Kjøkkenet selv faaer ogsaa sit.
Pjat! Pjat!
Ved Bordet sidder en Mandsperson,
Han er saa rar i Conversation,
Han synger og laver en Vittigheds-Grød,
Og Damerne sige: “hvor han er sød!”
Pjat! Pjat!
Nu tager man da Theatret fat,
Saa komme de først i den rette Pjat;
Pjat! Pjat! -
Tilsidst skrider Natten endelig frem,
Men saa - ja saa skal der følges hjem!
Det hjælper ikke at krybe i Skjul;
Nu gaaer det som en Kjap i et Hjul:
Pjat! Pjat!
Pjat! Pjat!
Chit-chat
The tea-table ladies sit oh so fine –
What are they nattering all the time?
Chit-chat!
One of them’s on about silk and bright bands
The second showing her lily-white hands
The third one here’s in poetic mood
She’s mad about Schiller, half construed.
Chit-chat!
They talk about politics just a bit
And the kitchen too is not out of it.
Chit-chat!
A man is part of the delegation,
So nice to have for conversation,
He sings and of jokes makes a pot pourri –
The ladies say: ‘He’s as nice as can be!’
Chit-chat!
The theatre now is the theme they choose,
It’s here they really begin to enthuse:
Chit-chat!
At last, signs of night now start to come,
Then, though, one has to be followed home!
Attempting to hide is simply unreal;
Now that just puts a spoke in the wheel:
Chit-chat!
Chit-chat!
No comments:
Post a Comment