Down and Out in Any Language

Vomiting, and chills and fever,
Don't add up to joie de vivre.
Lying huddled on ma chaise,
Victim of a foul malaise,
Retching half the night and day,
That is not my tasse de thé.
First I'm cold, then hot, et cetera,
Ouvrez, fermez la fenêtre,
I'm awake, I cannot sleep,
All because I've got la grippe.
There are worse things, I suppose,
But flu is not la vie en rose.

Mae Scanlan