A nerd bitten by the charity bug,
Spoke of slum children’s education
And shining darkness in their eyes.
In the shanties, the water flows
Like a shadow in cloudy daylight
And smells bad to the kind rich.
My check glistens in the dark
Like a meteorite on a dark night
In the next moment it vanishes
In the depths of hunger and belly.
Other men have fat bank accounts
But are spiritual for soul-hunger.
Poetry sounds crassly out of place-
One would wish the black sewer
Is not talked about in prose as well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem in classical style on a native burning issue is sure a great piece. Very few poets are taking up this kind of subjects. If time permits please read my MY SWEAT. You may like it.