I might as well have worn a broad smile
And walked miles holding colorful flowers
And melodious songs I might have sweetly sung
No living soul would have dared look my way.
So invisible, so insignificant, so futile, so plain,
So untouchable, so untouching I was. My pain
Spreading like mist but sadly missed by all.
I am an outcast, miserable by all standards, forgotten.
Lost in the towering tides of hard times,
Flooded in the chimes of crowding, hurrying cities
That have no room for the likes of me:
The dark tanned, the half naked, the bloody Nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem