A roll in the mud
For me in the rain,
There is
Mud sticking on my head,
Face and allover;
No longer tense
I feel so very free;
My childhood revived
Surprisingly,
There is no one to whip me.
No one to punish me
What am I to do?
Where are they who scolded me?
They made me feel needed,
That comforted me,
Filled me with pride;
Who would need me now, tell me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem