Humor

Tsars,
       Kings,
              Emperors,
sovereigns of all the earth,
have commanded many a parade,
but they could not command
                           humor.
When Aesop, the tramp, came visiting
the palaces of eminent personages
ensconced in sleek comfort all day,
they struck him as paupers.
In houses,
           where hypocrites have
left the smear of their puny feet,
there Hodja-Nasr-ed-Din,
                         with his jests,
swept clean
            all meanness
                         like a board of chessmen!
They tried
           to commission
                         humor--
but humor is not to be bought!
They tried 
           to murder 
                     humor,
but humor
          thumbed
                  his nose at them!
It’s hard
          to fight humor.
They executed him time and again.
His hacked-off head
was stuck on the point of a pike.
But as soon as the mummer’s pipes
began their quipping tale,
humor defiantly cried:
                       "I’m back, I’m here!",
and started to foot a dance.
in an overcoat, shabby and short,
with eyes cast down
                    and a mask of repentance,
he,
    a political criminal,
now under arrest,
                  walked to his execution.
He appeared to submit in every way,
accepting the life-beyond,
but of a sudden
                he wriggled out 
                                of his coat,
and, waving his hand,
                      did a bolt.
Humor
      was shoved
                 into cells,
but much good that did.
Humor went straight through
prison bars and walls of stone.
Coughing from the lungs
like any man in the ranks,
he marched
           singing a popular ditty,
rifle in hand upon the Winter Palace.
He’s accustomed to frowning looks, 
but they do him no harm;
and humor at times
                   with humor
glances at himself.
He’s everpresent.
                  Nimble and quick,
he’ll slip through anything,
                             through everyone.
So--
     glory be to humor.
He--
     is a valiant man.

Translated by George Reavey