The man in the poem is a real guy I see talking to the skies everytime I come home from school. He will sit on a bench and mumble and smile to the sky above. This inspired me too write a short poem about this man.
The man he sits on the green public bench,
His eyes all wrinkled his shirt all drench.
The result of the tropical afternoon sun.
He eyed the children as they Played and run.
A certain omniscient ambience he emits,
His hands always pointing to where god will sit
Above that cloud he shall see,
A figure too in which he speaks with glee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem