In a battle between host and hostage,
exponents of humours diverse,
each thought the other a hostage,
that the host had the upper hand
and that the other would come off worse.
Then one saw supporting the other
one upon whom he'd relied,
realised he couldn't withstand
humour of the opposite brand,
called that one a traitor,
said what she did was underhand
and realised the battle
was not between humours diverse
but between humours and humans perverse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem