As you don't want me anymore to wish you a happy birthday,
I'll be far apart as a beggar dressed in rags from a happy carnival.
Get to the party as soon as you can, leaving me hungry by the street,
and I assure nothing gets leaked to a tabloid's hot gossipy pages.
I'm darn right every feud has already cleared up from sight
and you've started over again with something new.
And I'm a husk without the grain inside it - a lot spent on such waste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem