"Four snakes gliding up and down a hollow for no purpose
that I could see—not to eat, not for love, but only gliding."
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
They see a man lying,
lying every time
he opens his mouth
he does not have to
he has power, money, fame, women
everything he wants
but is not happy with himself
and enjoys making stories
the real stories he calls fake
high on delusions he gaslights
puts his guns on shoulders of his friends
to shoot his enemies, and glides
and glides for nothing.
Trying to outsmart others
his empty head he hides.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem