In corners dark, where shadows creep,
Lies heaps of refuse, piled deep.
With whispered sighs, it waits unseen,
A task ignored, a messy scene.
But rise we must, with purpose clear,
To banish trash, dispel its fear.
With steady hands and hearts ablaze,
We'll cleanse our world, in swift arrays.
Through alleys dim and streets so wide,
We'll gather what we cannot hide.
With every step, a burden's shed,
As trash finds home, its resting bed.
So let us purge, with mindful grace,
Each crumpled paper, every trace.
For in this act, we find release,
And bid farewell to clutter's lease.
With broom in hand and spirit bright,
We'll sweep away the veils of night.
And in our wake, a cleaner land,
Where trash no longer dares to stand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem