they quarrel over the official color
of their dresses in conventions,
scrutinize every rumor, confrontational
in the most irrelevant and unimportant details,
they talk much over nothing,
change dresses in almost every occasion,
they are given the chance to lead,
backbite, and lose themselves in much
ado's about nothings.
i watch all these chaos
trying to understand, and respond to all their confusions
in the secret silences of my smiles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem