Gudekunst

From the high school Washington Irving,

From the room on the third floor,

From the seat right by the window,

I observe and nothing more.

When I'm called on to explain it,

When I'm asked to prove the problem,

All I can do is sit and wonder

How the rest can always solve them.

Maybe someday I will know how

Although I seriously doubt it.

Maybe someday I will solve one

And if I do so - I will shout it.

Hard the work is - long and tiring.

Hard the seat is - stiff and straight.

Hard the ruler when he taps me

Demanding me to il-LUS-trate.

Prove the reason for your statement!

Prove the statement you just made!

Prove the construction of your problem!

Prove the answer you just gave!

Where is your hand, Car-o-line?

Why do you just sit and shirk?

No extra credit for one too lazy

To get to the board and do some work!

Then his musical, chilling laughter

Floats out o'er the room so still.

Gay and pleasant is his laughter

Although it gives my spine a chill.

Kind and twinkling are his grey eyes

Filled with knowledge of quadrilatrics.

Oh, to understand plane geometry

Or ANY mathematics.

Every day I shake and tremble,

Tremble always with the fear

Of the shouting of immortal words,

" AThat stuff don't go in here!"

Lines and circles, chords and centers,

Parallelograms and angles,

Bisecting and dividing,

Quadrilaterals and triangles--

Maybe someday I'll understand them.

Maybe someday I'll get an A

Maybe someday I can solve them,

But that someday is not today.