'Your little son I was, your little son I will always remain before you I stand a prodigal for I had brought you shame
Days at home were like hell and wrong in my rights have always been days of my righteousness awaits you only if I could forget the past and turn my pain to my power
Yet I could not forget the past for it may allow the present to lead me to heartlessness my humble heart deserve the greatest goodness you want'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem