Where am I going? I wondered and wandered
Down alleys where apple-cores rotten and shrunk;
Orange-skin floated in gutters and bloated
The decay the dreams of a decade had drunk.
What am I doing? I wandered and wondered
Why rivers were reeking with oil and smoke;
The rubbish in hovels was raked up by shovels
And piled in what seemed a preposterous joke.
Where are the people? I wondered, and wondered
If I was living then why was I dead?
Something was walking beside me and talking
Of darling Dulcinea who went off her head.
Oh how I was perplexed - I wandered and wandered
Till twilight had faded the desolate scene;
The night was a blessing, and as I was cursing
The morning burst into the what-might-not-have-been!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem