[Three kittens - Sob, Rob and Amelia - were passing time at highest noon. Then Sob got up and said:] Why strap yourself into the saddle, Why carry sword into the battle, To hold the line stretched so thin If pittyful and bitter sin Is all that you can ever win? To find peace in vast remorse, To have a chance at future glory? By God! You'll only make it worse - The creeping end of your own story [Rob moved his little ear and replied with a smug little face:] Why win, why lose, why set the sail, If all that you intend is fail? Look there - sand, go lay in it If there's no difference, my friend, Then meet right now your precious end If all your paths will lead you to it, Well maybe now's the time to do it [Amelia, woken up by her siblings, spoke soothingly:] Friends, friends! We are brittle and blind and little And all that we know Is the comfort of bed A wise man once said In a joy of the sorrow: Don't think of tomorrow, Of hopes that have scattered, Don't fear the future That you have unveiled For desolate wastelands Of dreams that have shattered Stand tall on the shoulders Of deeds that prevailed I say we adjourn And enjoy a good nap For that is one thing That we can understand. [The three little kittens agreed at last. They were still very young and couldn't understand what they or their sibling were saying. They were simply talking incomprehensible nonsense.] [A tall man with a paddle and a sack suddenly appeared out of the corner of the blinding sun. The man said:] Fine weather this, Where is my beer? Fine day for a lake And the kids aren't here Two birds with one stone Oh! My poor back... There, there poor fellas Now, get in the sack