they invited me to a party that they know
i will never attend
it is my ego
it was once hurt and it still refuses to be cured
it is the cancer of this society
going crazy over the smell of the masses that pretend to like it
and yet
when the back is behind another one's back
pressed against the wall
and on dead end streets
it breaks out in laughter and says
this man believes us
we were only joking
we have our own agenda
after those lectures
we have our minds and visions
we do not want to be like him
a loser
the fingers of corruption are at work again
the party goers love its caressing flesh sending the sensations
of luxury
rising above the sufferings of
others
everyone loves
being well-off
being ahead of the common griefs
one blows the whistle and the party however
goes on and on and on
the beams do not shake a bit
the grounds remain firm
i am out
of the picture
there is no party within me
and i am not drunk
with the perks of power.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem