You look down and see
There are lots of people with out proper meal
On the street beg children
Thousands of people without sanitation
And you take a pang
In your mind always moves a plan
How to develop
How to uplift them
And you live nearer to them,
Just above their rung
They look up and see you
And call you all the bad names
But the crux of the fun is that
They all like to be like you middle rich man
But the opposite happens
When you look up
And see those fantastic men
Who rides the uppermost rung
With wonder you find
For you there is no sympathy
Rather they look at you frowning down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I agree with Ms. Burns, and the reasons of diminishing are not less to find, the middle class people can't beg, can't cry in public, such white-collared people, as most of us are...but the middle class is the one which is the most aware of all the 3, as they know about luxury, and they have the taste of wants also...most of the literary productions have come from middle-class writers...