Life is a tiger a terrible beast....
	 a terrible beast who will 
	 shred you up and eat you up
He does not know... CHANEL 
	 perfume number five
		from.....cow dung number 23, 
	 nor a Paris gown
	 from a breech cloth
At least he loves us all the same, 
	 mangles with no malice, 
	 no elite are dressed
	 for his jaws, blood and flesh 
	 have the same sweet taste.....
	 he gnaws as savagely 
	 on my arm as yours, 
	 eats both hearts 
	 with the same gusto.
Turn up the music and make the 
	 red lips redder.... we shall walk
	 down Broadway with 
	 the tiger at our heels.                
 
                    This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    