My soul, woefully honed on the city's whetstone
Hopelessly oblivious to a too familiar echoing drone
Daily roaming its concrete canyons ribbed with steel
Nature centralized, where one might escape one might heal
Walls sheer and tall, shadows laid wide and long
Casts of gray slowly retreat, fading as
A warm mid day sun longingly rises high and strong
Silence, long ago succumbed assailed with the din
Man made edifices are heard to whisper:
Today, what can we gain what can we win?
With abject, fevered step, scurry the commuters of its rail
Overwhelmed by the masses spirits and identities pale
Discord and confusion unchallenged too easily holds sway
Sadly, peace of mind oftentimes put off 'till another day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I CAN FEEL THE 'CROWDING' DEMINISHING SPIRIT OF A COLD UNFEELING METROPOLITAN CITY IN YOUR VERY DESCRIPTIVE EMOTIONAL WORDS.