On Tuesday we took the Blue Bus to explore
Los Angeles downtown, China town and Little Tokyo;
Saw huge civic buildings agleam with glass and chromium,
And shining marble-faced panels.
Yesterday was Thursday, cold and rainy. Best indoors,
The library of Santa Monica will be comforting.
Shopping takes time. An old lady is at a table,
With a pair of scissors, cutting pieces of old newsprint;
She sneezes, blows her nose on paper napkins.
A small girl, three-year old perhaps, moves about freely,
Climbs on to that table, past a computer keyboard;
She then takes up a pencil and paper, talks to herself;
Unreproved, free to grow to freedom if she wants.
I have learnt a bit of local lingo. ‘Hang out' at the Plaza
De la Reina de Los Angeles. ‘So long'; ‘See you around';
‘Have a nice day'. ‘High jinks' and ‘downside'. I read
A review of ‘The End of Affluence' by a ‘slowdown' author.
That tiny tot of three must be close to thirty years old.
Much has changed, and much remains, I hope she found
She could grow up and find her own freedom.
- - -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
During those days going to a library has been deemed as a worthy exercise! Though in a new place there is much scope for sight seeing, you preferred to be in the quiet of a library and made use of your time reading something worthwhile! Even after many decades, the scenes you witnessed there are so vivid in your memory! Enjoyed this tiny bit of your travelogue in verse!