Oh, new city! I didn't see your colour,
The colour, that which paints thousands of mirages;
Which covers and faints the naked reality,
The colour under which;
A grotesque image of hungry multitude is vanished
Under which the broken roof of a dilapidated hut is vanished
Oh new city and your colour!
This has showcased the immeasurable pleasure of power,
The sky touching buildings and the owners' stretching belly
Everyday, under your colour, oh city!
Somebody sold and somebody brought the body of other
Oh new city, how is your colour!
No sight has left out of the crushed man;
Who came under a car
No perished home is seen;
Under the power of hand
And you hid, you hid
With your marry and colour
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem