They're left behind:
the distant cousin
with feeble mind,
his wife who doesn't
pull up the blind,
both in the dark
with their bad genes,
while we, bold, stark,
spare guillotines,
and, in each park,
help mendicants:
the dazed and drunk
behind on rents,
shines who can dunk
but make no sense.
Like Stroop and Krupp
we tell no lies.
We prop them up
and sterilize;
give soup and cup
and wipe their eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deeply moving! , Leo