He courted a revolution
The spoiled child of genius lived ordinary
He espoused the values, we call petty bourgeoisie
Lower middle class, of ordinary morality
Of living off the edge, on a thin line of life.
Ready to slice, a piece of flesh, in fears
For God’s abomination is always for them,
For wishes are only heard, too far
For when married, giving birth their amusement.
They dream too much,
They think that the pretty girls of the bourgeoisie,
And above, are like angels. They are always sentimental.
Go to parks, and are content with French fries alone.
They wear sharp colors, and sometimes cover their hair.
They have been told that the curse upon men,
Is because of women. Their children skinny,
Idolize players, and watch movies. They are honest.
They read strange stories. They also believe in love.
Work hard. They have no ideology, said Marx.
They tend to identify with bourgeoisie.
They watch television with fondness and buy new clothes
For marriages and religious festivals.
They take pictures by the roses, and think that almonds
Are good for memory. They sometimes become fascist politically.
They believe in patriotism and seldom travel abroad,
Except for pilgrimage, in old age. They live happily
The think tanks, taking clue from Marx gave them a ideology;
To be used in class warfare, a state or religion.
They keep cane chairs in their rooms.
The would be bride, wishes for a double bed with foam
And a colorful blanket. They cherish gold jewelry.
They hang on the balance, fly kites, and carry lanterns,
They are a merry lot, but living hard.
“The spoiled child of genius” idealized them.
-To them and the spoiled child of genius-Rousseau
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very, very nice piece. scans beautifully; always surprising and interesting; good historical context; good word coloring