When I was a teenager I had an irrational hatred of covers and so did most other people who were into rock music. At some point in my adult life I realized that covers are a good thing. A good cover compliments, rather than competes with, the original recording. Case in point: the Chromatics' rendition of Running up that Hill.
Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers.
Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside,
Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses!
Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows.
This is the funniest thing I have ever read in my entire life. I kept trying to read on after this line, but my head was filled with the image of people putting their heads into cows' mouths, taking a deep huff, and screaming "Ahhhhhh!" with pleasure. Or images of a man and a woman in a bar giving each other flirtatious glances. The man walks up to the woman and says, "You have cow's breath."
Anyway, this is the worst poem I have ever seen in my life, but I am giving it 2/5 because of the hilarious and evocative imagery.