That hat seller
he’s a Maverick
itinerant, wanderer
no monkey business
no dependence, his own man
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
“Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads”
they’d not want to help him
they liked to brand him
so he said: “Damn you,
I’d rather go on my own”
moving from one place
to another
like a masterless samurai, a ronin
no monkey business for him
but the monkeys do come to him
he knows the monkeys
they’re everywhere the same -
pinching, covetous, not giving
but eager hands for taking;
and he throws his own hat down
and the monkeys imitate;
and he collects what is his
and he moves on, as he must
for his work is everywhere
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
“Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
an important idea imaged and told well. MM