Appreciation of London poetry

I want to cross every concession street. I walk through every concession street, wander near the place where the concession Thames flows, and leave a mark on every face I meet. I see the weak mark and sad mark of every passerby. Have a weak and painful face. In every cry of every man, in every cry of fear of every baby, in every cry of fear of every baby. In every voice, in every ban, in every sentence, in every ban, I heard the shackles fed by the mind: everyone was struck by the shackles cast by the mind. The chimney sweeper is crying. How many children are sweeping the chimney? Every blackened church scares the blackened church. The sigh of the unhappy soldier flows in the blood of the palace wall. Turn into blood and flow down the palace wall. But most, through the midnight streets, I heard, most afraid of the midnight streets, the curse of young prostitutes listen to the curse of young people! Blow the tears of newborn babies, which frightened the tears of newborn children and lit the wedding car with square lights. And destroyed the wedding car with plague. I won't ~ ~ but I still have to laugh ~ ~:)