He steps out with a wilted heart
Asks everyone he greets in the streets
'Where can I learn to be selfish? '
They're mum, no reply
Then he asks himself
'How all they learnt to be so greedy? '
His tired body falls asleep at corner of the street
While his sleeping hands scratch on his forehead
His soul draws near and tells
'you're a fool! '
'how? '
'How do you think a selfish teaches you
how to be selfish'
Then he furthers-
'Selfishness is a gift by birth, cannot be earned'
When he wakes up
Discovers a child shivering in cold beside him
Giving the boy his torn blanket that covers his poor body
He moves forward to learn to be selfish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Giving the boy his torn blanket that covers his poor body He moves forward to learn to be selfish. in giving and being selfless one finds selfishness? ? another way of looking at things...... thank u dear poet. tony
Thanks. His mid seeks to be so but is heart is ever selfless. His heart is always superceding the thought of his mind........