A bohemian dwells in me.

He the lover of remote women,

the lone explorer,

he who on leaving home

feels little regret for the offspring he never had.

Yet, also a bourgeois resides in me.

He who craves for a wife's warm welcome,

who keenly misses children's voices around,

mortified every Sunday

by his sheer unintended dullness.

Bohemian and bourgeois

keep wrestling inside me,

and I am to reap the fruits of their contretemps.

© Pako Aristi
© itzulpenarena: Jain Alkorta