(((When any individual, obsessed with his own ego,
Stiffens and strikes a conventionally aggressive pose,
- Wondering, for with every breath he moves slightly,
If on the plate, beneath the red light,
In the developing fluid, he will come out blurred -
He hopes to show off his social standing or his good points;
Because he expects deference from others
The challenged swordsman poses in a fencing shirt
As if ready to deal with anyone who crosses him;
Pen in hand, his eye turned heavenwards, the hack poet
Who - hoping against hope to make his fortune by it -
Knows every rhyming combination in the dictionary by heart;
The wealthy lady, her bust decorated by an ornate
Jewel, like a cork in search of a bottle;
Above all, the Eskimo, the ghost of the pole,
Who has always avoided close examination by covering-up;
Violin under his chin, the eminent virtuoso
Who offers to the old world a taste of the New;
At his easel, the superior nobleman of Apelle,
Whose name is well-known, standing in the middle of a chapel;
Racquet in hand, in clean white, without shirt or waistcoat,
The king of tennis who has contempt for the net;
All dressed up, the lazy follower of the hunt,
Blowing a fanfare from the saddle;
The noted barrister, as if his post at the bar
Is enviable, putting the executioner out of a job;
The successful pianist at the keyboard, whose
Fourth is the strongest and most energetic when trilling;
Like an eccentric, talking in the accents of a son of John
Bull to a horse-rider in the ring, the clown.
The great musician, as if composing,
Writing a pause-mark over the final bar;
Cool under his thin ample shirt with its big dots
The jockey for whom a hundred pounds is a heavy weight;)))

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