Fortune amidst fortune, But,
vanguished by misfortune,
Turmoil in and out,
The City Beggars life is full of screams and shouts!
Monickered as poor,
filthy and full of sore;
Tormented by unfathomable odor, and,
kissed by disgrace,
Hugged by horrendous and paltry nimbus;
This wasn't the beggars life before,
blanketed by hopes and dreams, but,
now covered by tattered clothes and that it all seems;
laying his body anywhere-in sidewalks, foot bridges and in streets
hoping all these will have a retreat.
And someday the city beggar
won't be ignored by peps, and,
one day or two will find his place,
a place for them to abscond where,
the City Beggars are in, and,
they will say this is - The End.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fine writing, I like it.