An open drain- large, unrestrained;
Reeking of clamor unexpressed
I hear a woman’s cry
There is devastation and despair.
It is a time of birth
And an emerging murmur of an end
A new-born floats down the gutter
The residue of society’s sins
More blood, more death.
Does poverty justify it all?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem