A salesman sits upon his bed,
A Bible in his hands,
His room within the cheap motel
As stale as one-night stands.
Another day of shaking heads
And "Sorry, No, not now."
The sorrow rises like a fog
To cloud his furrowed brow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A troubling glimmer of a moment, Tom, leaving the reader to piece together the antecedent narrative which brings us to this melancholy scene. Evokes an empathy for those who labor against the tide of public opinion, those whose lives are spent trying to snatch fragments of achievement from the chaos of other people's lives. Those who are called to a mission where successes are small and infrequent. A vivid portrait of shadows, Tom. Bravo. :)