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787 The Pope's tooth (Er dente der Papa)
Translated by Peter Nicholas Dale


The Pope had a foul pain’ut he cudn't wear
In wunna them jawteeth, or a canine, p'raps;
So, d’enlist wunna the bedder dentist chaps,
He called in the quack down at Rotunda Square.

Castellino runs straid up ta the Palace ta meet
The sovran, an take a squizz at his rotted tooth;
An he thumped it out with a slap a the hand'ut, strewth,
Cudn'a cum oud easier if it was a toothy sweet.

Our Lord, or the Pope - the meanen's the same
Becos he's the boss uv all the people on earth,
An’s keen ta bung on side with the best in the game,-

Sed: ‘Well dun, son! Ya didn't corze me any grief:
Here, cop a hundred quid: an, fa wot it's wirth
Frum now on in, we'lI declare yer a Knight a the Teeth.’

3/9/2000
The sonnet is translated into "Strine", the dialect spoken in Australia down to the 1960s.

 


787 The Pope's tooth (orthographically normalized version)
Translated by Peter Nicholas Dale

The Pope had a foul pain that he couldn’t wear
In one of his jawteeth, or a canine, perhaps;
So, to enlist one of the better dentist chaps,
He called in the quack down at Rotunda Square.

Castellino runs straight up to the Palace to meet
The sovereign, and take a squizz at his rotted tooth;
And he thumped it out with a slap so that, strewth,
It couldn’t have cum out easier if it was a toothy sweet.

Our Lord, or the Pope - the meaning's the same
Because he's the boss of all the people on earth,
And is keen to bung on side with the best in the game,-

Said: ‘Well done, son! You didn't cause me any grief:
Here, cop a hundred quid: and, for what it's worth
From now on in, we'lI declare you a Knight of the Teeth.’

3/9/2000