After escaping from a harsh French concentration camp
for Spanish Republican refugees,
a camp in which dried cod, watery lentils, stale bread
and cold coffee were the regular fare,
Victor sat down to a meal provided by a couple of English Quakers.
is imposing a lot, you feel,
by writing, 'Despite being English,
they served an edible meal.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem