There she comes
Pata pata every morning.
In those peeping pricking shoes
Rags clinging or hugging
on the skeleton body,
Thirty thousands is enough
for her to work
Morning till late
till forever
She can die for all i care
but do all i want
sickly or not, come to her
or i will cut your pay
Give me your sweat
I shall give you my slap,
Don’t ask for pay yet
Don’t you eat as you work
I shall pay you when i want
Or i will cut your pay.
Hotel woman,
Or slave woman
i shall drill all your sweat
like drilling oil,
drilling every mineral from the young to the old.
Unfortunate are the girls
Who throng at my door,
Hoping to have a welcome
To their fates
But woe to she
Who seeks comfort
In the den of the lion.