I love all of them
who love to winnow the gossip grains.
They love to scratch lovely scabies.
They have gifted nails to dig into yawning wounds.
They love to suck the pus out
and eagerly add to it their golden saliva
and quite readily spew it out in an open alley.
I love the most the way they pose as wise critic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem