On Monday, when the sun is hot I wonder to myself a lot: тАЬNow is it true, or is it not, тАЬThat what is which and which is what?тАЭ
On Tuesday, when it hails and snows, The feeling on me grows and grows That hardly anybody knows If those are these or these are those.
On Wednesday, when the sky is blue, And I have nothing else to do, I sometimes wonder if itтАЩs true That who is what and what is who.
On Thursday, when it starts to freeze And hoarfrost twinkles on the trees, How very readily one sees That these are whoseтБатАФbut whose are these?
On FridayтБатАФ
тАЬYes, it is, isnтАЩt it?тАЭ said Kanga, not waiting to hear what happened on Friday. тАЬJust one more jump, Roo, dear, and then we really must be going.тАЭ
Rabbit gave Pooh a hurrying-up sort of nudge.
тАЬTalking of Poetry,тАЭ said Pooh quickly, тАЬhave you ever noticed that tree right over there?тАЭ
тАЬWhere?тАЭ said Kanga. тАЬNow, RooтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬRight over there,тАЭ said Pooh, pointing behind KangaтАЩs back.
тАЬNo,тАЭ said Kanga. тАЬNow jump in, Roo, dear, and weтАЩll go home.тАЭ
тАЬYou ought to look at that tree right over there,тАЭ said Rabbit. тАЬShall I lift you in, Roo?тАЭ And he picked up Roo in his paws.
тАЬI can see a bird in it from here,тАЭ said Pooh. тАЬOr is it a fish?тАЭ
тАЬYou ought to see that bird from here,тАЭ said Rabbit. тАЬUnless itтАЩs a fish.тАЭ
тАЬIt isnтАЩt a fish, itтАЩs a bird,тАЭ said Piglet.