A bold Hippopotamus was standing one day On the banks of the cool Shalimar He gazed at the bottom as it peacefully lay By the light of the evening star Away on a hilltop, sat combing her hair Was a fair Hippopotami maid; The Hippopotamus was no ignoramus And sang her this sweet serenade: 'Mud, Mud, glorious mud Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood! So follow me, follow Down to the hollow And there let us wallow In glorious mud' The fair Hippopotama he aimed to entice From her seat on that hilltop above As she hadn't got a Ma to give her advice Came tiptoeing down to her love Like thunder the forest re-echoed the sound Of the song that they sang when they met His inamorata adjusted her garter And lifted her voice in duet (in Russian) (in Russian, DS sings, MF translates -- See bottom of page) 'Mud, Mud, glorious mud Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood! So follow me, follow Down to the hollow And there let us wallow In glorious mud!' That should improve our cultural relations The bold Hippopotami began to convene On the banks of that river so wide I wonder, now, what am I to say of the scene That ensued by the Swhalimar side? They dived all at once, with an ear-splitting splosh Then rose to the surface again A regular army Of Hippopotami All singing this haunting refrain: 'Mud, Mud, glorious mud Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood So follow me, follow Down to the hollow And there let us wallow In glorious mud'!