Factories, once engulfed by workplace smells,
Are now little more than empty shells.
Machinery, which once clanked and clattered,
Stands abandoned, broken and battered.
Cranes, once driven to earn a crust,
Now lay abandoned and full of rust.
People once worked here to pay their bills,
But now the place is standing still.
For trade, this place was an important hub;
It even had its own working men's club.
In its heyday, it saw many deliveries;
Now the silence leaves you shivery.
Along the quayside, big ships docked;
In and out, the dock workers clocked.
It was a hive of activity every day,
Until the workforce were sent away.
Trading ceased and the place closed down;
Now deserted, it is just waste ground.
The buildings are in a state of disrepair:
About them, people now no longer care.
To save their jobs, workers campaigned:
Their fight drove some almost insane.
They struggled to save their livelihoods,
But, in the end, it did them no good.
Many workers felt a real sense of shock,
When, for the last time, gates were locked.
They missed the work and their friends;
Their way of life came to an abrupt end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a sad state of affairs as our industries have gone into decline - very well written, enjoyed the read.