Where is that place, strong traveller?
What is its mysterious name?
Where is that great light, strong traveller?
That knows neither sorrow nor pain.
They glance upon my misery,
Knowing nothing of its making.
They shuffle onwards busily;
But with each step, my soul’s breaking.
And with each sad, distasteful glance,
To the world, I feel like screaming.
“Don’t you know I’m a person, too?”
One slowly but surely trying.