How vulnerable and defenceless man is
on the ways that we daily go,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
always busy with the details
that is beaconing his way in life.
How vulnerable and defenceless man is
far too easily hurt by his fellow-man
like a flower that far too easily whither and perishes,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
in the short scope of the earthly life
days and nights continue on and on.
How vulnerable and defenceless man is
too sentimental for every unfulfilled wish,
sometimes irresolute about the choices that lie before him,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
too easily wounded when somebody curses him
if he has got to take notice;
how vulnerable and defenceless man is
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem