Poetry, Translation by Pete Rose

In which Pete Rose translates towering works of poetry.

In today’s episode, Pete Rose will translate “A Poison Tree” by Romantic luminary William Blake from the original English into Pete Rose American.

Mr. Blake’s original:

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright ;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil’d the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Mr. Rose’s translation:

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright ;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil’d the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Hey, 7-11 clerk,
Let’s make this shit work.
My rebuilt Dodge in the handicap spot,
The .38 in my hand that I have not yet shot,

And an autographed, severed finger of mine
For 10 Powerball tickets (for which I typically stand in line),
And enough Schlitz my thirst to quench.
Anybody asks, my name’s Johnny Fucking Bench.

This has been “Poetry, Translation by Pete Rose.”