I saw a madman at Unity Square,
At the place where three roads meet.
And oh what swagger walked he
with!
He was a contented soul, it was clear,
He was ear-to-ear grin through coloured teeth.
Clad in holey garb, holes a score,
His discerning priestlike gaze fell on a lad.
And for a blink, the madman seemed sad.
For this sane lad, in the name of fashion, wore
Trousers the very-sane designers tore.
The sane who proclaimed the madman mad.
Then through flurry of feet
The madman saw
Brisk boys and girls, I'm sure,
Hurrying to crouch at the masters' feet.
Clutching a thousand books; and fain
To be members of a college
And to draw from wells of knowledge.
The madman looked on them with disdain.
Through a yellow-toothed grin
The madman seemed to say, or said:
"What education led me to the 'mai-shai's' bin,
And its manna of moldy bread? "
So I considered the madman and the sane,
And struggled I to tell who was mad or sane.
To the 'sane', the 'madman' was mad,
And to the 'madman', the 'sane' was mad.
And each seemed right in the view he had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem