Rusty rotten dirty domes,
Wound the Heaven’s azure heart,
Chimneys’ souls rise to part,
Black giants’ filthy foams.
Metal hooting centipedes,
Pierce the hills’ rocky chest.
Shaking the jungles’ breast,
Roaring saw on trunk feeds.
Life’s teasing irony,
Knife to cut on the barks
Save trees in the parks!
Man’s mocking destiny…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem