Poems about Haskell, C ++ and programmers

Hello, Habr, do you want a little Sunday rest? Read my poems, they will cheer you up, and some will make you think.



Modern programmer



I'm a barely conscious programmer

The whole point of programming.

I'm middle again at my twenty-two

And at twenty-one there was a lord.



Addition



Work is going on, and, whatever one may say,

I will be dedicated to the craft.

I’ll go to the june by the age of thirty,

And at forty I’ll go to kindergarten.



Recruitment Challenges
We are knocked down, we will not find a person:

Everyone is not cool enough for us.

We would have a senior with experience of a century,

Just not those that crowds rod.



These comrades are brazen and brave

About the acquired skills lie.

We would have a lord with knowledge of the matter;

These are not necessary, they will die from the strain.



We would have a lord - talent-luminary, -

In the dark mines of uranium ores.

We would have a senor smarter than a moron,

It’s a pity that such people don’t come here.



Didi fought for th ...
Dida fought for th

And they drove FPshnikov to hell:

Their world doesn’t accept

Who is lambdas and functors glad.



Dida fought for th

Driven by the power of dough,

And drove fools to death,

Adepts FPshnogo evil.



The verse is devoted to the development of components of a secure OS using Haskell in Kaspersky Lab.



Rapist Grandfather and Haskell
There was a rapist-grandfather in the OS,

Suffering from problems.

And I thought how to rid Xi

From bugs for good.



He thought he turned gray

I didn’t eat and slept badly.

But he found a good fortune,

Where Haskell rules the ball.



He clearly saw his goal:

The code must be beautiful.

And he forced D&C

Generate C code.



And everything would be cool, but the loss

He really didn’t want to.

For Haskell's choice now

Dismissed the whole department.



The ship "Haskell"
In the standard pool of commotion

He plucked boldly from the stern,

Our captain on the ship, -

Vitaly Bragile.



In the wanderings between Xi and Ha

Hero of the previous verse

He lighthouse, living in Moscow, -

Our Yuri Syrov.



Dispelling melancholy like fog

In the seas of ideas our chieftain

We bequeathed to be afloat,

Great Klapau.



Quote the code by G.H.C.

He’ll take, whatever you ask,

The strongest guy at the oar

Zavyalov Vladisla.



In a reliable way between sharp rocks

The navigator-aksakal leads us,

Inline maps of many countries

Vershilov Alexan.



Long live our glorious home

We are leading him to knowledge,

A proud and good ship

Our Haskell is dear.



Hogweed is the haskell_blah chat local meme in Telegram.



Hogweed
Sleep well, escorted

Lambdas and types in the human world:

Hogweed on guard chat

Save the night's rest.



No matter how upset the chat is,

Do not break the steel shackles.

Hogweed is on guard

Juice marks the fools.



Take a rest, forget yourself warrior

The night is dark and deep.

Sleep, do not be afraid, be calm-

You are in the shadow of a hogweed.



He is in the shadow of a starry night

Protects from enemies.

Hogweed - very toxic, -

The symbol of lambda shepherds.



The spirit of matana theorkata
Swiftly, proudly, sloping

The schedule of learning rises,

That is the spirit of matana theorkata

Prophesying great torment.



You could suffer for an idea

To learn Haskell sometime,

But threw a good venture:

There is the evil matana theorkata.



You scared before an imaginary barrier

Calling Smathan from a treatise.

But it was not a horned demon,

And the little spirit of the teorkat.



You got scared - and Haskell before the deadline

Embracing the sunset trail.

And somewhere sad lonely

The offended spirit of the teorkat.



Haskellists Night Promenade
Haskellists shine in the night

From the light of the sacred monads

And in thoughts - crystal and pure -

Make their night promenade.



Chew! - pain exhausted by rectal

In love with comrade objects.

What is more important: rectangle,

Or is it better to square?



Objects - steel frame,

To figures - a heavenly way.

Goes left and right

Rhombic bonds parade.



Repent! - the voice of the heart cries out.

Hold on Decay is inevitable!

But he wants more “order"

Completely crazy comrade.



Hereditary background

It promises even more “rewards”:

Now he, not knowing the reproach,

Draws a square from the circle.



Done. But smelling violence

The poor comrade is alarmed:

Trembling creature he, il, right,

Has objects in flush.



How glorious that there is no pain

In a world where there are many monads,

In a world where you can be free

Complete your nightly promenade.



And for dessert - a great piece about C ++, which I read at my keynote report at the C ++ Siberia 2019 conference.



C ++ saga in three parts and with one addition
PART 1. TYPES AND EXPRESSION



Working evening. Screen light.

From the twilight sleeps.

Go to the bar; but too early

And you need not think about that.



The release is on, colleagues are crying,

The program is not ready on time ...

... And the thought jumps randomly

Between broken lines.



Refactoring is a holy thing,

And the compiler would be friend,

But for such types, zelo,

To deprive someone of their hands.



With these types, everything is complicated:

No matter how praying, no matter how asking

It is impossible to express in them

All that cannot be allowed.



For everything unclean in the program

Our compiler is silent.

Debug the code, look for it yourself

Until you burn.



PART 2. MULTI-THREAD CODE



The snow whirls violently, zealously

In the February cold outside the window.

Go to sleep ... But it's too early

And you need not think about that ...



... The damned bug broke the threads,

Changing data is wrong

Deadlock is his credo

And the flight of air conditioning is his banner.



He is from mutable guns

Conducts targeted shooting.

And he wants, dirty Judah,

Bury the streams in a coffin.



He knows that in the war with order

Sly pretend to be a court

And announce in a smooth verdict,

Who is to blame for the “order” of volume.



Who by ignorance of approaches

Shoved everywhere anseyfny cast.

Who bred god-like freaks,

And he created ballast from noodles.



Who was mad in health

When, burning all the bridges,

Went with mutable charter

In a multithreaded monastery ...



... such an unprecedented "nepruha"

You have not experienced for a long time.

Problems multiply like flies

Code turns into trouble.



PART 3. PATTERNS, OOP AND BOILERPLAYT



The picture is crafty

Laughing girl with an umbrella.

Calling and beckoning like a pava

But you need not think about that.



The hour of success is not yet near

Bye, bolted apart

The product suffers in the bowels of the workshop

From nut incompleteness.



Objects in this factory

Swollen worse than pasta

And following the example of a secret sect

The fittler is rooted there.



His task is to be on guard

All that is close to the mind.

Whole, where the meaning is, and even

Where the meaning is not easy to see.



The scoundrel is fighting Ockham

And brings talent to the fire.

With him, kisses will become a shame

And the mind is ruined in the bud.



Proclaiming loudly

Chart versatility,

He will be silent about labor in vain,

And inconsistencies here and there.



The trick is trying to slip

Details of extremely complex shapes.

Confuse him - just spit

He’s in this special for many forms ...



... So, at the whim of a villain

In the land of magical OOPey

For centuries, an epic

Where in the main role - nonsense.



ADDITION. Rust



A paw moves softly in the corner

Wall cat

The lava lamp flickers

But you need not think about that.



What to think about? .. Slips away

In the darkness of nightly thought is a thread.

Reality melts and melts

And the meaning is no longer to get.



A dream comes.

And there is

Chest,

all rust beaten:

Neither sweet nor rude, not small, not a coffin,

Straight as a cube, with a lock of brackets.



The chest is open.

And in it grows

A flower as beautiful as the dawn.

It is covered with a soft flame

And emits a bright light.



The plant burns for a reason.

The contrasting tone of his fire

Passion is fulfilled. And clean

His dumb chatter.



He will dissolve with his heat

Fatigue from empty speeches.

He worships simplicity

And the consistency of the little things.



He announces the edges

Where there are no destructive miracles.

There at the notorious sluts

Will not break the process.



There is safety and comfort

There is no pain, no shame.

There they pay with happiness in advance

And age is not a problem.



There's even a weird moneylender

Will give a mountain of silver.

He is not wasted great

And the preservation of goodness ...



... That was a dream. Waking up you

Returned to office night

And was now a captive of dreams

Overcome neurasthenia.



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