He stood before us
Idyly kicking the sandspurs from his foot
Arms and legs covered with dust
Riinglets circled his neck.
Toenails embedded with a layer of dirt
Broken and cracked
Fingernails worn short
Outlined in black.
Yet it was his smile
That captured us
A gap where teeth once grew
And the crinkling of the eyes.
We knew this person
Who stood before us
As one of our own
One - trust, we must.
A man grow old in years
But a child at heart
One who had seen the world
Grow hostile and mean.
He ask not from us a single thing
But offered instead
Cold water from the spring
In his battered metal cup.
s
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem