The waves of heat rose off the pavement like flames above a roof.
The jingle of anklets as her desperate feet move,
What’s this coming with every clink of her bangle
Strange pain mingling with music, silent unnoticed tear trickle down her eyes.
With the earth on her cheeks, and soil embroiled in her swirls,
And her faltering feminine fragility in her hideously dead eyes.
Encountering the miraculous stringing heat on her feet
Heating the young blood in her impatient panic stricken nerves
Devouring the red rays of the sealed fire in her burdens
With Her, forgotten to blossom, dusky cheeks, masking the fate of her ocean eyes.
The clouds of pain shadowing on her innocence, her cheeks
Being colourful rain bearing clouds or just two fading roses.
The face of her sorrow-gripped youth in rags is worth observing
It’s like moon wandering through bits of strolling clouds
Ah! How this spectacle fills my heart with heavy shameful sorrow
I would not call it poor but the sight of my diseased country.
Where the fading beauty is compelled to walk miles
For what atrocity is she compelled to walk miles?
Wailing are her cold, weak and delicate hands,
While she should have had a pretty flower in those precious hands.