B I O G R A P H Y
Nobody asked him what happened
When he cried out his birth.
Nobody is asking him
What he thinks today.
Nobody will ask him
When he will shut up and pass on.
Because his life is a state
Without a course or calling;
Because his life is but a temporary incident
That offers no cause for a celebration
And at the end he will be entitled to a funeral,
Which, too, is yet another show?
Except, the main character
Is there no more?
And those attending his burial
Will be like a few subscribers
That the deceased picked up incidentally
Walking in the tracks of his life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.