It must be midnight; no idea
Anyhow the darkness is horrible
And not a single star remains in the sky.
An infant's cry very loud; non stop
Deaf father still not sleep and mother is dead already
Nobody knows.
There isn't a single meal in her stomach.
Infant's cry continues.
A retired and a senile magistrate who never sleeps lives at the next door raided the cottage.
Does he strangle the child?
*I dedicate this poem to street children of the World who doesn't have an identity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have pondered, what would the poor live like if we were to be able to feed them from next door? Would we blind ourselves to their need or go to them with food and water as soon as we could? The is an inspiring poem.Love Duncan