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 So you were born, a helpless man, Who would be strange for now and then, And who would not be understood By parents in his childhood, Who would soon start to feel as so He's one of soldiers in the row Without mind, without heart, All struggling to escape this, but... But it will be in aftertime - And we return to what is prime. You were a child, small and funny, Who learned how to cry for mummy, Whose world was in her lips and hands With no idea where it ends. But years passed, and you grew strong, And found soon that you were wrong, And found world ahead of you Along with things, not much, not few, Along with men, all old indeed, Not knowing where it will you lead, Now knowing how you will soon feel In being someone other's meal, In being someone other's toy As they but mock and laugh in joy, For they have found you as "strange" When you appeared in the range, When you refused to play with them, When you showed no respect to Sam, When you was almost all alone Within your own thoughts and tone. Man-in-itself in all the aspects, Without need for fame and respects, Without wish to behave so... Not like a soldier in the row. Oh, boy, not soon you understood That it was not for bad, but good, That it was like a road's stone For no one said there would be none,


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