This city has aroused the very core of
melancholy in my heart.
With the sky the same shade of gray
as the paved road.
And the walls tattooed with territorial hatred.
Poverty spreads throughout this city like wild fire.
One that will take more than rain and a thousand men
To put out.
Fights and firearms are supplied abundantly,
And malice and depression are fountaining from the poorest of regions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good imagery and discription. Gloom descirbed so well.