No one can or may see deep within my mind....
All of them, those unseeing people, might as well be totally blind.
My soul goes unobserved on this planet of long lonely solitudes...
No one ever sees, in the many, unnumbered multitudes.
I am my own lost souless depressioned of men...
So sad, too bad, narily a minisculed amount of sin.
I wander constantly in many a mile...
This in truth, there is no denial.
Remanent of man's own pride...
Better off as dead and died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem