Dorothy Gilbert
Two Cook-Songs from the Planet Musaeus
on the Same Subject, by Rival Poets*


Ho, I am going to make
some wips: they will transport you.
In a pot I'll put
pittakaskadiblia; slibs, littacocks, lopples,
lorrops, hibbles, and the pips
of koffatids. Lattapurns
are good too, and chittabubs,
and fillakeens, if you like those.
I use korrafits, though coarse spirits don't like them,
bibberits, rissits, kukkadiffilits,
gillabits, timmabiberits and other tidbits,
bilps, bitterpips and stemmerits,
and pripples—pits, pulp and skin.
Stewed for long hours, they lie
finally, seething in a hot
sweet paste. Wips! Wonderful
wips! No one in this world
makes wips like mine. Ho,
I have done it.


Ho, I am going to make
small wips to excite you. Chittabubs,
lopsided and brown, sleepy features in corners,
I'll use, and fillakeens,
like heavy flowers; hibbles, like pale creatures
caught in cold seas. Landed, they smell
strangely of sweet roots dug from the loonth,
stored long in sunlight. Dubs also make
a sweet, sleepy taste. Lattapurns,
long dried, and hung in branches,
lorrops and korrafits, all the little fruits
called pittakaskadibblia. Then bibberits
and rissits, bitterpips and stemmerits,
pripples and bilps, pippakiperits and fips—
warm wines, green teas, spices for your delight!

All sizzle in my wips, the best
you'll ever have. Ho,
I have done it.

* Translator's Note: Little is known about the ingredients described here, since exopsycholinguists, exosociololinguists, exosociobiologists and specialists in exophysiology of taste have not identified any terrestrial equivalents. We suspect, on very little evidence, that these songs are occasioned by some sort of public contest or great slam, but it is possible that only private professional competitiveness is expressed.

Editor's Note: Way more fun than reruns of "The Iron Chef"!