Sonnet CCCXLV

Demonic monsters of the turbid sky,
guffawing with your gaping mouths like beasts -
away, away! Take wing and swiftly fly!


Regarding jealously at all who feast
and clammoring for every greasy piece -
away, away! We steadfastfully ignore!


The children, fearful, hurry to their seats,
or else combat the grey-specked, greedy hoard.
For such disturbance, there is no reward!
Mind quickly to yourselves, o scavengers...


There's scraps upon the ground - don't ask for more.
Your gluttony grows only angrier;
the laden tables are your battlegrounds -
away, away! Show mercy this time round!