Know what that is,
The style of swearing at the thrust
Of conversation is met
By the fluent style of writing,
This elegant mustard on the plate
Is good enough to consume
With urns to be the wine,
And the meat to be the same
As the crops of the whole year.
I have knowledge from those wonderful
Foodstuffs, the elegant and eloquent speech
Exacts itself, feeding the public with noise;
And the clamour rises, towards the city of cuisine.
The noise deafens the globe, goblets
Are drained and the frenzy is perfect
For the dumber who enjoy the sounds
At least.
This is knowing as the reasoning
Has spelt,
Headlong the march traverses the dust
Within the mesh of the meat-eating globe -
A wondrous creation from the ideas
That some of the most powerful possess,
Like from their rucksack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem