Walking under the rain
Was the first day I saw him
I thought I saw the pain
Written all over the stranger.
Crouching, beside the building
Was the second day I saw him
His toes were bleeding
Yet, none noticed the stranger.
The third day I passed
People sighed at the sight of him
Then I heard he had passed
Looking for a stranger.
This stranger he had sought
Till his fate met him
Who has stolen his lady as thought
By the poor ragged stranger.
For in his hand he held a note
That was given to him
I think- this lady wrote
To another stranger
His lady he never saw again
No news she left for him
So, he walked under sun and rain
When he saw the note to the stranger.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem