there is no one here
I'm in the middle of the street
wounded
hurt
in pain
I'm crying out in pain
there's no one hear to listen
Help me
I keep repeating this
for the street and the walls
they are the only ones that listen patiently
but they are not doing a thing about it
the color is fading
my cries are slowing
there is no one here to help me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Among the Short Stories by Anton Cechov, you should read one of them entitled 'Anguish' or such thing. Only as start and not as end.