What is there left to a man long shunned
Always travelling as a vagabond?
No one dares to set eyes on him,
Except for those who looked with grim.
No daylight shined down on his skin,
Nor darkness protects from what has been.
What is there left to a man long shunned
Always travelling as a vagabond?
Only life is left to this man
Until his hope reaches its span
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem