Hooray, the echo will resound throughout the wide square,
When a sincere drunkard's song emanates from my throat;
Tonight I'll be lapping up a smoky pub's atmosphere,
I'm bloody well going to get sloshed, buzzed and somewhere float.
My spirit gorged, I'll bang the table with my strong fist,
Searching for a little brightness from these gloomy days-
Take no more you soft touch! Liberty! May the vile twists
Of my ricketed brats in the garret rot away.
I'll drink-smash everything in sight but never mind,
I'll pay myself! Can I not afford to break a glass or two?
I can, you bastards! With the rubles from my black grind
I could even have two dozen mistresses to woo.
I smash-because I feel like it! Hang it all! Freedom! I've power!
Run, spirit, till dawn. Out of the way. Today we rule!
And when I leave the pub with hands in the pocket of my trousers
I'll stagger wide down the drunken street, nobody's fool!
The Saturday Night Song
Julian Tuwim
(1)
Poem topics: away, feel, freedom, never, power, song, today, strong, mind, street, touch, fool, square, drink, black, soft, throat, gloomy, glass, dawn, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Saturday Night Song poem by Julian Tuwim
Best Poems of Julian Tuwim