Take a break, bake a cake, wear your thinking cap
Before plunging into an abyss beyond the precipice
Towards which the vortex of your next lap
Is hurtling, spinning, gyrating in a savage kiss
With lips rounded in an abandon, motion and osculation
Meant to prove love which exudes a great deal
Of neglect powered by your wrong option, selection
And direction impelled by the pulse and impulse to steal
The future from the star of youngsters who aspire to mingle
With youngsters and masters from France, Germany and Italy
Whose fate, slate, plate and pate without debate or single
Doubt engage the clout of sages free of the gout malady
That afflicts and inflicts pain on pension and tension parents
Who value isolationism and nationalism at the expense of globalization patents.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem