Interview with Professor bingoffsky - A controversial topic

Interviewer:Dr. bingoffsky, may I ask you a few questions?
F.B.: Certainly. PLease ask only scandalous questions, as I am anxious to gain publicity by notoriety.
Q: OK. Why did you dedicate it to Freud, your mentor?
A: Oh, Freud inspired me withthe most scandlaous theories. If it were no for his theories, this poem would never be written. It really is a poem on theories , you know.
Q:What theories?
A: Oh, psychoanalytical, biolopgical ... it's complicated. What 's your nest question?
Q: Why did you choose the title Songs of the Cricket?
A: Oh, it's anm unconsious imitation of Sonnets from the Portuguese. But I'm glad yo noticed. It is about a cricket singing you know ...
Q:Why a cricket? not a person?
A:Oh, it sounds more decent to write about insects. Truly, in a cricket I could

Songs of the Cricket

Songs of the Cricket by Fyodor Bingoffsky, Ph.D. wannabe

To SIGMUND FREUD, my MENTOR (and, of course, George Bernard Shaw)

I
Tell me why the cricket sings.
The notes resound in nature's cries
To express the hesitant replies
When all awakened senses ring.

II
Tell me why the cricket sings.
When misty treads have thundred free
The knowing heart says: "I love thee!"

III
Tell me why the cricket sings.
An unsinkable euphoris shouts and flees
For the heart has found it is to be.

Iv
Tell me why the cricket sings.
Has joy unleashed from ancient ruins
The scribe's sweet art from shining moons?

V
What songs could emerge from invisible depths
When inspiration draws in every breath
As when the cricket begins to sing?

VI
Wherefore come these tremulous notes?
The sweet, unsounded keys have fluted forth
To revel in soul's renaissance rebirth.
vII
Tell me what could have inspired
THe cricket's fervent, undimmed fire:
Dare the tempestuous words rise and aspire
To heights revealing the hidden lyre?

VIII
Tell me why the cricket sings:
A bell of agony peals outright
When one winged being is far from sight.

IX
Tell me wny the cricke tsings
Two arrows did strike the fragile heart:
One, the passion felung by the babe on wings;
Two, the piercing, venom-tipped dart:
Drawing life, drawing blood.

X
Tell me why the violin shrieks:
Left solitary, the ungiven flames
Cannot expres, and music never came.

XI
Tell me why the violin shrieks:
Rusted to oblivion, the frosted heart
Feels none, the shrill notes ending bleak.

XII
Tell me why the violin wails:
Pain, for none have long drawn the string;
Never bestowed a life, never eternal being.

XIII
Ah, solitude! not enduring thee,
The cricket calls, melancholy,
In hope another shall come for he!

(signed)
Fyodor Bingoffskt
6th June 2008.