Hear him on the road while he sleeps,
On a street of simplicity, and a beggar weeps.
Hear his tears as they fall, like a manager of money,
He had it, the money, the food, and the honey.
He heard the bees and the bears when they judge,
Where you lie and wait as much as a nudge.
You fear the men of gold and silver,
Of a golden boy and a silver girl in a river.
They wait for fortune,
And their days are a boon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem