Роберт Геррик. (H-53) Зрелая вишня

Вот, что мне удалось откопать в навозной куче интернета: "There was an absolute mania for singing, and the worst of it was, that, like good Father Philip, in the romance of "The Monastery," they seemed utterly unable to change their tune. “Cherry ripe!” “Cherry ripe!” was the universal cry of all the idle in the town. Every unmelodious voice gave utterance to it; every crazy fiddle, every cracked flute, every wheezy pipe (=хриплая дудочка, сопелка), every street organ was heard in the same strain, until studious and quiet men stopped their ears in desperation, or fled miles away into the fields or woodlands, to be at peace. This plague lasted for a twelvemonth, until the very name of cherries became an abomination (=омерзение, отвращение) in the land.

Mackay, Charles (1814-1889) "Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds" London: Office of the National Illustrated Library, 1852. Second edition First published: 1841.

Роясь в цитатах, я обнаружил, что пуританские англичашки, как правило, не приводят последние две строки стихотворения, вероятно, чтоб избежать намёков, где же "эта страна или вишнёвый остров" на самом деле находится: Robert Herrick quotes: “Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry / Full and fair ones; come and buy; / If so be, you ask me where / They do grow? I answer there, / Where my Julia's lips do smile; / There's the land, or cherry-isle.” ДС