Planets are moving around the stars.
The stars are shining, are dead, becoming dwarfs.
The moon will show up its face in the evening.
Lovers will walk around hand in hand in gardens, in parks.
Some will be born, some will die, the world will keep on moving.
And I, homeless, hopeless, helpless will strive somehow
To live my life scavenging food from fast food dumps,
Sleeping under highways bridges and aimless wandering without an end.
Hope makes you strong to look forward. I desire nothing.
I have no hope for nothing. My life, natural. Will end its
Cycle from nothing to nothing. And in between the
Beginning and the end, I am what I am - nobody, nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem