Excerpt
What can one make of it? This charming wit,
This expert in civilization conversation
Is about as dull as a row of turnips
One he touches poetry. However
He is never so happy as when he is writing it;
Then he can love himself and admire his talents.
Still, we all imagine that we have gifts,
And everyone is a bit like Suffers;
Everyone has his special delusion—
Our view of ourselves is a bit different from other people’s.
