Tar sucking in warm rays of the sun.
Ivy crawling and clinging closely to a wire fence.
Brick buildings standing, feet apart, looking over the streets.
Flowers shooting out their beautiful colors to passers-by.
As the wind blows their fragrance to noses all along the street,
it also throws the stagnant smell of filthy garbage at their feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem