You, who throw words into the crowds
like old pennies,
Why do you simply repeat the sounds,
like silly old ninnies?
Where are your own thoughts,
or don’t you really have any?
You may be excused if your tongues from disuse
have dried out.
your tongues can whet the scythes
not to mention the knives,
They can be used as brooms
to sweep up large stables.
So — you are able.
Why then do you cry
tears not your own?
Why do you hop around on the thoughts of others?
Перекладач: M. Bohachevsky-Chomiak
Оригінал: До папуг