There’s a radiant city that never sleeps,
Where random people seek survival,
It alters destinies, but also keeps
Piles of dreams and faith in revival
Over three centuries it has become
Home of tycoons making fortune in their mind,
While forlorn beggars die in slums,
Their eyes still linger on the streets so blind
And there’s a pretty lady made of copper,
Who keeps waving to the mooring ships,
She has always promised freedom to despondent paupers,
A torch in her right hand says: “Your life now begins! ”
And they believe her lips, which stay at rest,
Her glowing crown and stony face,
They eventually seem to have fulfilled their quest,
Their journey’s over in this brand new place
Upon East River, there’s a bridge
Once constructed by a German man,
Which looks like its fascination has always been,
A special piece of the Creator’s plan
Of course, it’s not the only one
To enrapture hearts without a break,
But it shines so brightly, almost like the sun,
And it’s just so hard to take a breath or walk away
Central Park, Manhattan’s soul
Has a wealth of color when it’s warm,
Its famous lanes are sparkling cold,
When winter tales are told in storm
Set as fortress for the needy chaps,
The Americans from Ireland then,
Hell’s Kitchen has since sheltered glossy wraps,
It won’t serve a purpose in the rags again
Recently, all hip-hop fans
Have cherished Harlem and its days of glory,
They more than often take a chance
At its remarkable and varied story
People in Brooklyn and Queens reach for the sky,
The Bronx and Staten Island have their share,
As if waiting for so many to come, live and die,
They just watch over, without a care
After dusk, the lights are on,
Thus, even poor areas don’t seem so gritty,
And while the sun is blazing through the morning dawn,
The world is falling in love once more with New York City
this second poem from you, which i've just read, is a delight. i was afraid i might be disappointed after reading the first one (about halloween) which i was very pleased with. it is so nice to find a poet who doesn't make a mistake with it's and its. it's refreshing! and i thought of NYC as soon as i read lady made of copper. i've been to the city a few times and always had a nice/interesting experience. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - my favorite lines: When winter tales are told in storm ........ warm/storm and other rhymes are most welcome AND After dusk, the lights are on, Thus, even poor areas don’t seem so gritty, ............exactly, but i still would be reluctant to walk those areas at night! thanks for sharing. bri :)
Thanks a lot once again. I honestly envy you for having been to NYC. I never have. As the title says, it was a teenage dream of mine which I wanted to visit very badly. It faded away over time because of certain circumstances but it's still somewhere in there nevertheless. I hope to make it come true one day, until I'm still here.
I love your description of The Statue Of Liberty. A lovely piece of poetry. Keep it up and thanks for sharing.
I've never seen it but that's how I picture it. Thanks for the comment :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is a delight to read your poem. narrating all that you see and experience in a poetic way. your observation is very powerful. thank you very much