Amid a bustling marketplace <br />On the busy streets of Hong Kong, <br />A horrid image, far from grace, <br />Sought me like a terrible song <br />Shoved into my exquisite ears. <br /> <br />I saw… <br /> <br />A desperate face of a crippled man <br />With a crippled heart that sung a song that <br />Asked for alms from those from a well-off clan. <br />Non-stop he bows to the money-fat cats <br />Who scurry the streets to meet their own needs. <br /> <br />Deep are the hollow pink that once cradled his eyes. <br />Friendless is the right stump lacking forearm as peer. <br />His crow-shaped feet cannot hoist him up as he cries <br />When the coin gravitates to the bucket with tears <br />From merciful cats who dropp by once a full moon. <br /> <br />He feels the winter warm breeze lingering from the warm cats <br />Till he sings the song that asks for alms which begins like this:
