Mystery hangs like leaves on a tree
listlessly falling to depart from thee
who can this fellow be
your brother, father, uncle maybe?
Lying on the bustling streets of disgrace
his body tarnished and covered in filth
no name to fit his face.
He speaks to himself
chanting words one haven't heard before
only he can translate the root of his core.
Justifiable you may say
to see him be, this man whom was once a living tree
become a stranger to his own
forgetting by whom he was bred and grown.
Passersby looks on
stealing a peak through the dishonest crowd
another leaf has fallen and soon to be forgotten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one lol good job