A Portrait Company

Today or tomorrow

On a claret paper clean and smug,

I have to get it done

With your sucker’s mug.

What a filthy trade it is to paint.

What a filthy, filthy trade,

To limn each puss with no complaint,

And only to be poorly paid.

It’s no great fun, I say,

To paint a janitor all day,

And for some bread

Explore the stupid head¹

Przypisy:

1. This stanza is originally in French: Quel sâle métier que la peinture./ Quel sâle, quel sâle métier./ On peint chaque geule sans murmure,/ Pour avoir un peu de la monnaie./ [przypis redakcyjny]