“The public’s shoving, unafraid of bruises! 

Some Talma there, perhaps, home of the Muses!” 
Please, friend, sharp weapons don’t attract. 

It’s comedy —by apes that act. 


II 


At ease, I watched the apes put on 
Their show. And it was good clean fun. 
So natural— just one thing missing, 
Which was, to use the walls for p—. 


Suddenly, somebody plucked my cloak. 
“Really, that was a peculiar joke! 

A young girl swooned at what she saw, 

Flew on a monkey’s breast and claws. 

She batted her eyes, said timidly: 

‘O depths of exquisite agony! 

O harmony! Delicious sorrow! 

That monkey thrills me to the marrow! 

I feel as if I were magnetised, 

The ape played me; I loved him, hypnotised. 
O monkey, speak, for I’m bewitched by you! 
I just can’t breathe, my head is spinning, too!’” 


539 


540 


Karl Marx