Back From Innisfree

Back to the city,
I must return.
Back to the disturbing life,
Which makes my heart burn.

Leave behind the bean rows,
Leaving back the beehive.
Back to the city of struggle,
How will I truly thrive?

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Oh! How to forget the peace,
The sounds as the cricket sings.
The purple glow is now smog,
Pigeons instead of linnet’s wings.

The sounds of nature,
Now the horns of cars.
I don’t accept this lifestyle,
I would rather shift to Mars.

(This poem is like a second part to the poem -‘The Lake Isle Of Innisfree’, written by William Butler Yeats)