Her fatal flaw shows nothing trite
She is not proud, nor always right
She does not need to have her way
Nor does she want to have her say
And yet she is closed-up, uptight
She snorts and grinds her teeth at night
and thinks grim thoughts of waste and blight
not knowing how to send away
Her fatal flaw
It plagues her, morning, noon and night
There is no respite from her plight
Procrastination fills her day
It turns her soul from gay to gray,
turns black and raw what should be white
Her fatal flaw
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'13 Untitled (Sally) 51,668;
'12 Barcelona Clash 51,878;
'11 Mojo Madness 52,793;
'10 Changing Directions 53,400;
'09 Daybreak 56,565;
'08 Vacant 52,486
Debido a la estructura del rondeau, más que una traducción, es una version
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Mi tara mortal no es corriente
No es orgullo, no soy hiriente
En asuntos ajenos no meto la nariz
y si critico es con un matiz
sin querer ser condescendiente.
De noche resoplo, rechinan mis dientes
Tanto derroche... ¿no lo sientes?
Es nefasta, nada feliz
mi tara mortal.
Es vicio, y aunque me arrepiente
de este silencio estridente
¡Desidia! ha sido mi desliz
Tiñe mi alma clara de gris
lo deja menos reluciente
mi tara mortal.