O chansons foregoing
You were a seven days' wonder.
When you came out in the magazines
You created considerable stir in Chicago,
And now you are stale and worn out,
You're a very depleted fashion,
A hoop-skirt, a calash,
An homely, transient antiquity.
Only emotion remains.
Your emotions?
Are those of a maitre-de-cafe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a very sophisticated, introspective poem Get in touch with me if you would like to talk about it. thomas