My indifference flying to you -
An unwanted parting gift.
Don't have many gifts, just a few,
Being by nature a sort of a thrift.
A thrifter's world is a barren place,
Lacking compassion, love, or joy.
Old rogue's, time-beaten face,
Mask in the misery/hatred alloy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem