Acting on the impetuous tongue,
much unseen currency wandered into grasp.
Materialists and magnates contract stagnant egos;
Their cries of hope reduced to a whine,
ordered to a muffle.
Bohemians never snarl;
they premiere all cool religions and future clothes;
all their geographic knowledge belongs on a shared plate;
Chianti blood flows in unison with healthy anatomy.
We’ll elope,
this mismatched vow cannot be witnessed by puppets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mindless cowrdly beasts snarl! So well said Mr. Dawson. GS