You  fail  to   admire  the  best, 
if   you  don’t  admire  your  town.
One  who  misses  to  notice
the  beauty   of   vicinity, 
is   no  aesthetic.
My  town  surpasses
any  other  town   in  its  charm.
        
The  silence  of   dawn.
The  partially-lit  streets.
The  morning   walkers.
The  bells  of   milkmen.
The   façade  of   homes 
bright  with   white  powder   designs.
The  sweeping  of    women.
The  flower-girls  selling  jasmine  and  chrysanthemums
The  coolies  rushing  to  fields.
The  tea-shops  sending  out  thick, black  smoke.
Men  gossip  over  newspaper  reading.
The  snail  motion  of  
Municipal   garbage   van
(collecting  litter  and  scattering  everywhere)  
The   school  children  pace  slow  steps  in
bright   attire.
Ahem!   Here  is  another  day! 
Another  dawn ! 
Another  day! 
Everyday   is  my   birthday.
Each day  is  birthday  for   my  town.
My  town  awakes   anew  each  day.
I’m  sure
I’ve   reasons  to  admire  it  though.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    