DONALD J. TRUMP READS “THE SNAKE” TO SUPPORTERS IN CEDAR FALLS, IOWA 1/12/2016

Donald Trump reads
"Snake" poem to a crowd of supporters in Cedar Falls, lowa 1/ 12/ 2016

Before he was the 45th president of the United States of America.

January 12th, 2016

THE SNAKE
(Oscar Brown Jr.)

Al Wilson

Also recorded by:
Belle Stars; Oscar Brown Jr.;
The Mint Juleps; Johnny Rivers; Paula West.

On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman saw a poor half frozen snake
His pretty colored skin had been all frosted with the dew
"Poor thing," she cried, "I'll take you in and I'll take care of you"
"Take me in tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

She wrapped him all cozy in a comforter of silk
And laid him by her fireside with some honey and some milk
She hurried home from work that night and soon as she arrived
She found that pretty snake she'd taken to had bee revived
"Take me in, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

She clutched him to her bosom, "You're so beautiful," she cried
"But if I hadn't brought you in by now you might have died"
She stroked his pretty skin again and kissed and held him tight
Instead of saying thanks, the snake gave her a vicious bite
"Take me in, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake
"I saved you," cried the woman
"And you've bitten me, but why?
You know your bite is poisonous and now I'm going to die"
"Oh shut up, silly woman," said the reptile with a grin
"You knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in
"Take me in, tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

version II

On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman saw a poor half frozen snake
His pretty colored skin had been all frosted with the dew
"Oh well," she cried, "I'll take you in and I'll take care of you"
"Take me in tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

Now she wrapped him all cozy in a coverture of silk
And then laid him by the fireside with some honey and some milk
Now she hurried home from work that night as soon as she arrived
She found that pretty snake she'd taken to had been revived
"Take me in, oh tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

She clutched him to her bosom, "You're so beautiful," she cried
"But if I hadn't brought you in, by now you might have died"
Now she stroked his pretty skin again and then kissed and held him tight
But instead of saying thanks, the snake gave her a vicious bite!
"Take me in, oh tender woman
Take me in for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake
"Now I saved you," cried the woman
And you've bit me, even why?
And you know your bite is poisonous and now I'm going to die"
"Ah shut up, silly woman," said that reptile with a grin
“Now you knew darn well I was a snake before you brought me in
Please, take me in, oh tender woman
Take me in, for heaven's sake
Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake, sighed the snake
“Take me in tender woman
“Come on in you pretty snake�
Come on in, yeah, come on in you pretty snake

Oscar Brown Jr. - The snake

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TxVymZxekEw

Snake
BY D. H. LAWRENCE
A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.
 
In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough
            before me.
 
He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom
And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over
            the edge of the stone trough
And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,
And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,
He sipped with his straight mouth,
Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,
Silently.
 
Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second-comer, waiting.
 
He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused
             a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels
            of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
 
The voice of my education said to me
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold
            are venomous.
 
And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.
 
But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink
            at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?
 
Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?
Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?
Was it humility, to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured.
 
And yet those voices:
If you were not afraid, you would kill him!
 
And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,
But even so, honoured still more
That he should seek my hospitality
From out the dark door of the secret earth.
 
He drank enough
And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,
And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,
Seeming to lick his lips,
And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,
And slowly turned his head,
And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,
Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round
And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.
 
And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,
And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders,
            and entered farther,
A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into
            that horrid black hole,
Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing
            himself after,
Overcame me now his back was turned.
 
I looked round, I put down my pitcher,
I picked up a clumsy log
And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.
 
I think it did not hit him,
But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed
            in an undignified haste,
Writhed like lightning, and was gone
Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,
At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.
 
And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.
 
And I thought of the albatross,
And I wished he would come back, my snake.
 
For he seemed to me again like a king,
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,
Now due to be crowned again.
 
And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life.
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness.

Taormina