Jabberwocky
Jabberwocky is a poem by Louis Carroll. If you don’t understand it, that’s OK, because it is supposed to be common nonsense. Here is the real poem:
Jabberwocky
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mom raths outgrabe.
‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!’
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought–
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
‘And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe
It means that there was a boy that had to kill the “Jabberwock”, did it and brought back its head.
Here is my version:
Hicklywocky
Twas wester, and the slobbery tathes,
Did wabber and wobber in the wabe.
All bickening were the vobodos
And the mom raths outgrabe.
“ Beware of the Hicklywock, my daughter!
The tails that wack, and the wings that flap.
Beware the vooddoob cat and shun
The furauscous wadersnatch!
She took her vorple staff in hand,
Long time the fumascous foe she sought,
So rested by the tum-tum rock,
And sat awhile, and thought.
And as in deeperous thought she sat,
The Hicklywock, with a tail of ice,
Came pushing through the darky wood,
And groloped as it looked around twice.
Three five! Three five! And deeper and deeper,
The vorple staff went clopper-clop.
She left it dead, and with it’s head,
She went halluphing back.
“ And hast thou silenced the Hicklywock?
Come to my arms, my fleamish girl!
O Frambruous day! Kahoo! Kahay!
He worpled in his joy.
Twas wester, and the slobbery tathes,
Did wabber and wobber in the wabe.
All bickening were the vobodos
And the mom raths outgrabe.
I hope you liked it!