Today the tide has changed
Nearly by dustbin a kitchenette of grubs
No roof over the head
A nest any place at dusk.
There's no shoe to wear
Just trod on dry leaves to have
A sound of shoes
And prove your worth among them
Hum the sound of a car
And get driven destination wise
Hunger driven but wisdom drowned
Death but living
A pool of tears and hallowed laughter
Death may be sloughing the flesh
And life the addition of a soul
In which case subtraction is the end
Of the beginning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem