There is a wordsmith on the landing
A few cells up from mine
He has made quite a name for himself
He’s been in a longer time
Academia serves him not
It all comes from the heart
I suggest that he might study
Because the heart is just the start
“No way”, he says, “No way,
“It would lead my art astray”
So I do not persevere
For it would serve no purpose
For what is worse (in fact a curse)
Is that more people prefer his verse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem