I'm afraid of staring faces
That peer and preen; judge me meanly,
Though they never show their teeth-
Nor ever scowl, most keenly.
We are not so far from curs;
Our kind a sort of pack-
Though herds of literati, we,
Conjugal; even slack.
I would tempt you with a flower;
Herb bread at high noon,
Say now, what could be the matter?
Friendship's not too soon-
Before cruel words get spoken,
And conscience separates
The clattering of minds-
Would wish, that you be kind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this one Patti, so true, so good.