Not supplied with happy ending,
Instead enduring cliffhangers
Wherever he is, usually he needs to be somewhere else,
Whirling with productivity and shining in self-possession
Heads up and above board,
Not currently consumed by the noise,
Yet miscast in a location irritation
Looking like a mark, appearing as everybody's food,
The humiliation of forfeiture lingers
He can handle it, but it's still a handful,
Having no replacement in sight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem