The vagabond,
Who lives on the outskirts of my town of vagabonds,
Is told he is not a vagabond,
Hence not welcome.
The refugee,
Who lives on the fringe of my town of refugees,
Is told he is not a refugee,
Hence not welcome.
The human,
Who ekes a living on the boundary of my town of humans,
Is told he is not a human,
Hence not welcome.
The Indian,
Who lives in all out towns, towns who are in India,
Is told he is not an Indian.
Hence not welcome.
The man who died,
Who lived on the perimeter of our town of the dead,
Is told he is not dead,
Hence was never welcome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very good writing, let me welcome you and read my poems.