Stranded between the rocks and the desert:
Condemned like a burnt red leaf in Autumn;
An ocean of knowledge & wisdom,
Cruelly rejected by his puerile peers.
O now he performs minor miracles
At night, in order to keep himself sane.
Not for him the glory of shared moments,
Just the monotonous treadmill of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem