1. He competes with me in poetry, though poetry is dead,
An envious fool, far from my goal, stubbornly misled.

2. And every idiot, if his nonsense could take form,
Would make hellfire seem cool, though it was cold instead.

3. Ask them about what's ahead, and they play deaf and dumb,
As if, when asked, they're suddenly statues made of lead.

4. They shake their sleeves as if they held black snakes inside,
With hands that clutch dark serpents that fill them with dread.

5. A child's wit dies in their midst - how can a branch thrive
When the root itself is rotten, diseased, and near dead?

6. Awake! No teacher awards a degree to fools.
Does Mercury himself take idiots under his stead?

7. So give no honors or garlands to one such as he,
For laurels are not meant for weeds that should be weeded.