Conceived in forbidden circumstances
Born and forsaken under forbidden circumstances
Brought up carelessly, confusing him and the lot
About his origin and future
Living a life of a perennial search
Unlikely to locate the needle in the hay stag
The blind search with no guide placing him in a precarious position
No one to hold his hand to cross the busy streets
He lost his only guide in a crash
Worsening the desperate search to puerile status
The search had to be reinitiated with no hope for success
Except the offering of a Samaritan,
Who’s concerned about his body not his mind
His soul in limbo, the angels calling for it
A complicated book to read again from beginning to end
Few concerns to read it nonchalantly as a newspaper
Destined for rubbish bin
Now he is in a state of loss and cold
More questions and answers for nobody to unravel
The angels are waiting for his soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem