Once, a man on the street I met
Elegantly dressed in tattered clothes
Different colours it had
More to come
These he cherished
As his only assets
He had nothing to eat
But for tasty sour meat
And a bowl of algae water
To go along with it
He romanced the cold night
On his bed of refuse
Which he shared with rats and cats
More yet unseen
He, a tasty meal for the mosquitoes
Who feasted until they had their fill
Though in this way
He still knelt to pray
Thanking Gog for yet another day
Seeing the sun rays
And the hope-full moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem