Come play with me

Goethe wrote “One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”

I've seen more than my share of fine blip photos today, so I can cross that one off immediately. Here's the good poem, by Yeats:

~To a Squirrel at Kyle-Na-No~
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.

And here's the little song:
Three Little Birds

I can only hope I've spoken a few reasonable words, especially in Spanish. :)