Traveller
Upon the silent seafront under the scorching summer sun,
I hear a voice that cries out soft and faint as it sounded,
"O ci którzy mogliby mnie pomagac, daj mi! Daj mi!"
"It's on my head you stood, tall and vibrant under the watchful eyes of the blue sky.
Listen you!
I am a traveller from a far away antique land,
Whose shattered visage lies, whose cries tell tales of cuffed hands in the sand.
I am with whom by myself I define, in the eye of God a man, the egregious egoist,
And in the eyes of other men, the enormous load, the outcast old psychopath.
Listen you!
In these winds that bleed the quietest of all my taints and troubles, I complain not,
And by the thundery roars of the rains and all the fears and scares they give me, I manage a smile,
I am a traveller in a desolate land, unaware of whom I have become.
Poem by HUDHAIFAH
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