Far away from the roots
away from the origin
one finds a desolation
a sort of disillusion
yet man is restless
moves from one place to another
from one region to the other
mindless of his difficulties
the desire to earn is all the more
suppresses the other fancies even so
he migrates across with a will
succeed he might in the course
nevertheless loses his identity
I might sound orthodox on the go
the feel I have towards it is so
might be wrong on the premise
for me it proves to be amiss
well. that be the individual idea
I am too far from the modern world
primitive as a relic all too much in style
nor I propose to impose my ideas
or strike with a force on the convention
each one has his say in the world
my voice is one from the wilderness
mostly goes unheard with no effect
yet I express my feel with a gusto
it is but the truth in real