There's little in taking or giving,
There's little in water or wine;
This living, this living, this living
Was never a project of mine.
Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is
The gain of the one at the top,
For art is a form of catharsis,
And love is a permanent flop,
And work is the province of cattle,
And rest's for a clam in a shell,
So I'm thinking of throwing the battle-
Would you kindly direct me to hell?
Ms. Parker's style always give me a smile, brisk, cutting, and definitely remarkable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, this poem is one that brings a smile to my face. I like her description of love as a permanent flop.