Tolkien Gateway

Fifteen birds in five fir trees

(Difference between revisions)
(Created page with "'''Fifteen birds in five firtrees''' is a poem found within the Out of the Frying-Pan into the Fire chapter in ''The Hobbit''. ==Context== :''Coming soon'' ==Text== <po…")
 
Line 1: Line 1:
'''Fifteen birds in five firtrees''' is a poem found within the [[Out of the Frying-Pan into the Fire]] chapter in ''[[The Hobbit]]''.
+
{{stub}}
 
+
'''Fifteen birds in five fir trees''' is a poem found within the chapter "[[Out of the Srying-Pan into the Fire]]" of ''[[The Hobbit]]''.
==Context==
+
:''Coming soon''
+
  
 
==Text==
 
==Text==
<poem>
+
<poem style="font-style:italic; margin-left:20px;">
 
Fifteen birds in five firtrees,
 
Fifteen birds in five firtrees,
 
their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze!
 
their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze!
 
But, funny little birds, they had no wings!
 
But, funny little birds, they had no wings!
 
O what shall we do with the funny little things?
 
O what shall we do with the funny little things?
Roast ’em alive, or stew them in a pot;
+
Roast 'em alive, or stew them in a pot;
 
fry them, boil them and eat them hot?
 
fry them, boil them and eat them hot?
  
Line 18: Line 16:
 
         Ya hey!
 
         Ya hey!
  
Bake and toast ’em, fry and roast ’em!
+
Bake and toast 'em, fry and roast ’em!
 
till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;
 
till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;
 
till hair smells and skins crack,
 
till hair smells and skins crack,
Line 30: Line 28:
 
         Ya hoy!
 
         Ya hoy!
 
</poem>
 
</poem>
 
==Analysis==
 
:''Coming soon''
 
  
 
==See also==
 
==See also==

Revision as of 07:45, 18 April 2011

"...there is much else that may be told." — Glóin
This article or section is a stub. Please help Tolkien Gateway by expanding it.

Fifteen birds in five fir trees is a poem found within the chapter "Out of the Srying-Pan into the Fire" of The Hobbit.

Text

Fifteen birds in five firtrees,
their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze!
But, funny little birds, they had no wings!
O what shall we do with the funny little things?
Roast 'em alive, or stew them in a pot;
fry them, boil them and eat them hot?

Burn, burn tree and fern!
Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torch
To light the night for our delight,
        Ya hey!

Bake and toast 'em, fry and roast ’em!
till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;
till hair smells and skins crack,
fat melts, and bones black
         in cinders lie
         beneath the sky!
         So dwarves shall die,
and light the night for our delight,
         Ya hey!
         Ya-harri-hey!
         Ya hoy!

See also