Where do I take you, my son,
In this world so huge
Among a million homes of pity
With none to provide refuge
So many people there are
With money, boundless,
Their hearts see only money
This I must confess
I can't give you anything
Other than misery and pain
That's why I'm here standing
Beaten, with nothing to gain
All I had of value
Were fields that went away
With the mighty flood that came
In the rivers, yesterday
That changed my whole life
From being a secure farmer
To a rudderless ship that
Never reaches its harbour
I've lost this battle
Which they call 'Survival'
The flood left me stranded
At a point of no revival.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem