How can anyone surrounded by decadence,
Be expected to be innocent of anything?
And how old can one's pretentions get,
Before they too begin to smell like curbed garbage?
Especially when fresh resolutions have just been made,
By those insisting they are going to simplify their lives...
With a returning back to basics.
As soon as those 'basics' are decided to identify.
And they don't interfere with things chosen that are liked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem