Behold a beggar playing sad a tune!
By heart, on his own poor, old harmonium;
Though blind, he seems to be in God’s commune;
Alas! is this the new millennium?
Behold a lady working by hand-loom;
A widow poor, she has a female child!
Victim of consumption that spread to womb;
That turns all hearts of sympathy so wild.
Behold the handicapped who jobs the lathe!
With fore-limbs lost by accident, the smiles;
’Tis hard and dangerous; his sweat does bathe;
In dignity he lives and walks home miles.
And lo, the whole some man in car complains,
And curses all while driving drunk through lanes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem