Did I not get left enough
to be left enough to clap a man
who says we ought to throw our frontiers open
to whomever wants to come?
Do I not see
that I have been left enough,
that I have enough,
to want to clap that man?
Is it not about that at all,
but about having too much,
there being enough for all?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem