Translation for the poem on the left-side of the page:
The balls are on the green,
the cure for all ills is playing ball,
so even behind the eight-ball,
stay on target, in the running,
to be a king with diamonds sparkling,
perky like fresh-brewed coffee,
dressed to the nines, in all weather,
wearing top hats and tails, or
the highest of very-high heels,
sipping martinis (or is it wine).
So swallow the right pills,
staying right-on target,
walking through towns
in the rainy weather.