Calmly, step by step, I now approach the clearing
in which you will admit to being myrtle:
not sign, you are a plant of fond intelligence
made green by education, as by nature.

How this walking beautifies my living,
I am pinched by the twigs of how you think!
The shine of your heart, your logic's foolishness
revive me, and I continue in this direction.

And if a leather jacket blocks my way
to take my little fag out of the world
and if an officer feels taken on a soeur
because I thought good to talk him down
my soul says, him, he have nothing to say
who dare to stroke a steeled soul the wrong way.