I begin to walk,
But immediately I stop,
As I think I am walking
In the wrong way,
After a while,
Again I begin to move,
But soon I stop,
As again I feel
I am moving in the wrong direction,
The lean and pale vagabond realises everything,
He laughs at me and says,
"Your soul is wrong."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic satire my friend.5****