Million parts and he still alive

Million parts and he is still alive

Perhaps a loaf of bread in dignity

Perhaps as a human finding a shelter

Perhaps he would see his mournful daughter

Who she lost her a plastic doll

Let he himself could kill the idol

Between the alfalfas near the black hill

He lost her forever

He bought for her a bit of sugar

To himself, why am I hummer!

Her pink rose still cast away

Near the railway

Dimly and silently they went away

Without saying good by

And the guffawing children still nonchalantly

Monkey with their trifle Sun

Always they would mock at Fate

As if their mock sun laughs

In the part of their black Angel

A penny they have to buy bread

No shelter, no firebrand

Even the white-yellowy hen was killed 

In a stormy night staving their orchards

To whom would he answer?

To the gone away caravans!

Or to the tear still jailed in his eyelids.