I wonder for an arrest to be argued
To leave a man without his job,
With his job, without his job,
With his job, without it,
Or shall I say he read my letter
And threw it away for the telling
Of payment to be made by me.
Shall I state I have a profession
Inside of which my task is huge,
And huger still. It is the worry of late
Why I am in trouble.
For somebody has sentenced me to life
For being a liar, and an open one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem