Dorothy Parker I love your mouth,
Your witted words do splendor,
Sitting 'round the table round,
Money earned to spend more,
Never letting men thrash you,
You were more of a man they were,
Never caring who you offended,
With your smitten word,
Bold as any who held a pen,
You wrote your thoughts profound,
Often though your heart plenty,
Were shards upon the ground,
Those knights around the table round,
Friends and comrades up in arms,
Couldn't hold a candle to you,
Your tongue could set off alarms,
Go well into sleep you darling woman,
For your words are still admired,
A rare bird amongst the toads,
With blood as gasoline to fire.
2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the last stanza and the realization that someone else has read and admired DP. I met her in college accompanying a soprano on an art song about men. It was pure gasoline to my mind.