The Nation’s Youth
The Nation’s Youth, to Paris go to study
The art of tying round its neck a tie.
And so, to demonstrate at home the mindset,
Of being wiser than a half-baked pie.
In town, the down-and-outs look up astounded
To see them twist their whiskers in their carriage,
Or, gripping with their teeth a long Havana
When traipsing up and down, along the Passage.
Their nasal vowels smirk their clownish faces:
They prop the pillars of cafes and brothels
To show they do not earn a living, they parade it.
Yet all these air-heads vie for the impression
Expressed in their forgotten, native language
That they are our brightest constellation.
English Version by Constantin ROMAN
(All rights reserved, copyright, 2011)