Acrid was coming from behind
turned back as to see
gaily kid playing in garbage box
lonely but grin on his face
looked in and out of box
i didn't have courage to ask
rationalized life of his was dwell
he never loathed god
in the world of felony
he lived near beautiful bungalows
although never complained
to sleep in Meadows
insects biting and irritation created
swayed in front of every person
for indispensable goods for life
'0 that kid was marginal for the world'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem