My habit is my sensible time,
One heart of my life is in my time.
My honourable line is supposed to be a sign,
Nine of the men out of ten commit treason.
My habit is bolder than the manners of heroes,
But the humour has entered my house of art.
To be my lion I have to chase the stronger folk,
Kicking and roaring to find my oasis, in time.
My habitat is a misfortunate light or community,
Its tales are everlasting, its blessings are several.
To stop the opposition with song is too demanding,
I must face the music one day, I must face reason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem