Although the sun shines
Nothing can erase the smog
Bleak, baron buildings surround
The tedious toil of the cog
Clones of different degrees
Gather to achieve the same
Blinded by figures and fees
Means of escape are nothing
All that is known now is this
Obsequious though comforting haven
Where sanity has become an abyss
Imagination is an unnecessary deficit
And the only aspiration is to be at peace
With whatever their label will permit
While factories line the water’s edge
Pumping out waste by the ton
A few will make a pledge to change
And nothing will be done
Lighted shops inspirit the streets
And beguile the selfish crowd
Deindividuation is prevalent
Where no one will speak aloud
Vendeurs continue to prevaricate
To a gullible and greedy herd
Whose impulse is to vindicate
And disquiet the unperturbed
While fumes and filth rape the air
And butcher the unborn bird
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem