Modesty
Sky is grey
Wind, breeze and rain,
Light for me is red, footers on cross
Her hand is lowered, her left palm if full
Home of her cell-phone.
She grabs skirt; loose, of jersey wear
Light cream and beige; to breeze a guest.
Radio is on; mode and code of wear
Talk the teenagers.
One of them is rude; doesn't think or care
“Crop tops” one says: “Why to feel ashamed? ”
Her body must “A” among the others.
Confident she is; must talk for herself.
Another, smart: “this is an insult…”
She says and goes on: “to guys…and to gals...”
With laps in the time:
“The boys are not dumb…obnoxious for leg…”
“And the girls do not…show the leg to sell…”
This girl, diplomat: “what we say and want, is to have the right.”
Anchor asks, replies; refers them to judge:
“Which of them is right? ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem