Walking by the river,
I came across a legless man
Seated in a wheelchair.
I pondered on
How he lost his legs.
Was it accident or war?
He looked Arabic and
I thought of Iraq
And of all the people being maimed
By terrorist explosions.
Regardless, I approached him
And took a risk.
Without a word,
I placed my hand on his shoulder
And gently caressed it.
He looked up into my eyes
And said, in a subdued voice,
'Thank you, sir.'
He said no more.
Somehow, he knew my heart
Was filled with compassion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem