minstrel: copyrights

[J.A.McGowan]

National Poetry Day was October 9, 1997.  (In the United Kingdom, that 
is.)  Wendy Cope was commissioned to write a poem on copyright, and has 
waived the copyright on the following poem for a year for dissemination 
purposes.  Please feel free to spread the message as you like.  (There is 
quite a campaign going now about artists' rights.  The Authors Licensing 
and Collecting Society and the Poetry Society are both involved.  The 
Poetry Society can be found at http://www.poetrysoc.com.)

THE LAW OF COPYRIGHT
by Wendy Cope

Now this is the Law of Copyright--good subject for Poetry Day.
If you keep it some poets may prosper, in a modest and limited way.

And some of the people who break it have little idea of the wrong
They do to the indigent author who dreamed up the poem or song

That they put into print without asking, or perform in a theatre or hall
With an audience paying good money, while the writer gets nothing at all,

Or offer the world on their web-sites, assuming that poems are free.
They are shocked when you mention permission, aghast if there's talk of a 
fee.

This is the law: the creator has rights that you can't overlook.
It isn't ok to make copies--you have to fork out for the book.

It isn't ok to use poems on posters or cards or in shows
Unless you have asked for permission.  You may have to pay through the nose.

But not necessarily.  Try it.  If you're a good cause, or you're poor,
and unlikely to make any profit, the cost of obeying the law

May be negligible, may be nothing.  It's one thing to ask for a gift
and another to take without asking, and we call that other thing theft.

And poets they need to eat supper, and poets they need to wear shoes
And you'll seldom encounter a poet enjoying a luxury cruise,

So remember the Law of Copyright, and make sure you do as you ought,
And if you read this and ignore it, I bloody well hope you get caught.


***

Americans note--theatre is spelled exactly that way.  Please keep it 
spelt correctly when you pass this on.  Thank you!

That Damned Scot, yclept Sela.



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