Lovely, lovely, doves with their bulging eyes
Cooing over me like I do not hear them
Fat, ugly hens, clucking in my face
Like I am any worse than they
Their chittering praises, hollow and blind
Their screeching commands, worthless and ignored
With their feathers puffed out
And their beaks upturned
They may be intimidating to their usual worm
But me? Not a chance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem