Превод от български на английски текст

You are entirely stiff with malice,

oh, noisy and debauched city,

and your electric globes

shine festively in vain!

For every evening, violet-hued,

you see the poor children,

and the undeserved insult

etched on their weary faces.

Fate has deceived them early,

life has seized them from all sides,

and here they are: standing on the corner,

with caps pulled low over their eyes.

What do you give them from your luxury,

you—so generous to some,

yet cruel to the homeless Gavroches

since their tender young years?

Before your brilliant shop windows,

they often gather in a group,

and how much sorrow in their feverish eyes,

and how much suffering is read!

But they leave again, in rags,

with timid sighs on their lips,

while those windows are adorned

with countless longed-for things...

You are entirely stiff with malice,

oh, noisy and debauched city,

and your electric globes

shine festively in vain!