Sections sat sternly at the table,
Notes crouched in corners, carefully inclined,
Quotations with fixed bayonets stared sharply
At the defendant who was being tried.
The circular peered through his glasses,
The audience huddled close,
Instructions leaped out ghostlike
From the wise wires of the phones.
The sections hissed — “the defendant is foreign!”
The circular croaked — “she’s not from here.”
The notes piped in — “Was never heard of.”
The audience, shocked, screamed.
The circular looked sternly at the court
And re-established silent rapport.
They executed the defendant right away —
The sanctimonious clauses carried the day.
In vain did the defendant swear
Her innocence. It could not matter there.
The court was logical and strict,
In no known category did she fit —
She was a new idea.
Перекладач: M. Bohachevsky-Chomiak
Оригінал: Суд
Мова: english