The stone pillow by the roadside shares my burden
And I have nothing to lose as I do not have any personal belongings,
So, I am not worried about thieves.
Though I sleep under the starry night stars belong to the sky
And I have only one friend an old rat who comes for a turnip.
He's so grateful as he only eats half and the rest keeps for me.
We used to sing together in lonely nights
Moon listens but very quiet.
* I dedicate this scribbling to the poet Charles Bukowski for his great poem 'A Man'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem