London
When I walk through every chartered street
I come to Thames River
I saw every passerby whose faces are weak and painful.
Every man cried and every infant feared.
The bans rule people’s spirit.
The crying of chimney-sweeper was roaring in the black church
The blood of the soldiers was running down the palace walls.
But the most horrible things I hear are the curse of the youthful whore
They aborted the baby, they got the sexual disease, and they could not have a normal married life.
No comments:
Post a Comment