She travelled hundreds
Of kilometers, cried for her food
rested very little,
Lived without food sometime,
Her parents dead in
The meaningles war
For someones great position,
She knew not what will
Happen to her, living in shelters
Sometimes no one took notice
Of her she lived the life
A beggar, but fate can make her
Some one of repute, like
Many a refugee did in the past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem