维吉尔:“我的名字叫quque vatem dicunt pastres。”哦，麦克斯韦尔，如果是理性的?学习巴贝奇，你终于把自己变成了一棵精神上的卷心菜;如果我证明自己是一只云雀，在早晨甚至脸红，像音乐的火花一样翱翔?天穹碧蓝的原野，我们不同的命运，现在被奇怪的轮回颠倒了，我把它炸成一棵卷心菜，蔑视诗意的花束;你是一只翅膀闪烁的云雀吗?紫罗兰色的河岸在飙升;你的声音如带露的玫瑰云响起，而静态的我却很无聊。我要卷心菜吗?我不能把我的根锚定在地上，因为在我出生的时候，也生了一颗溃疡。它很快就会把我的根啃掉——? But when I weigh a ch?nix I?ll freely soar to realms of day An emerald cabbage-Ph?nix. Then talk not of the Poll to me, I hate, detest, and scorn it; I am as earnest as a bee, But savage as a hornet. And if they pluck me I will drown Each pedant in a sonnet, And of their pluckings make a crown With golden plumes upon it. So if my cabbage growth be slow I'll try to be a carrot, Or still remain a lark?but know I'll not be Poll, or Parrot. Then if I fall beneath the mark, I?ll shout with accent savage, "It is a lark to be a lark, ?Tis green to be a cabbage"