No body did ever notice me
with all the eyes in this world.
I was a gypsy though I had a home.
Someone brought and left me near the
banks of a river, vortexing in rage.
Lucky was I the river did not engulf me.
Is this a revenge or is it a protest?
What is all this about standing in the
burning sun while there is shade all around?
Give me a two yard of space anywhere in this world
I will stay there and go no where else.
If this is not bad luck, what else is it then?
I am alone in this world though I have a woman at home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem