The heart of a wise man lies in the mind of a child,
when the wise man thinks of this child his pride goes mild,
tears of sorrow are shed for the eaglets that will never glide,
like sightless moles they burrow side by side.
But what the wise man cannot fathom is that I am not like them,
my father I do not curse and my mother will never condemn,
I'd read his mind like an old fortune teller,
yet I was just a child beside an elder.
His thoughts of me started since forever,
talking of evil deeds that I will always endevour,
That there was no future for me and I together,
I said nothing, I was just a child beside an elder.
My thoughts and feelings were never to consider,
his soul from misery I cuold never deliver,
I'd only trusted and hoped because I was a beliver,
that I'd not be just a child beside an elder forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem