20/04/2026
How is it that we are poor—
struggling, stumbling onward,
yet never like the others.
Born into awareness,
learning to speak and write,
but left empty-handed,
while they move faster than us.
How is it that we are poor—
all we can do is keep going,
yet the road never straightens.
No one to push us forward,
walking through storms and rain.
Fortune is never steady;
sorrow comes in endless streams.
How is it that we are poor—
all we have is honesty,
clinging on without a rope.
Without even a home,
enslaved to our wages.
Some came from the fields,
yet barely better than the city poor.
How is it that we are poor—
with no inheritance or wealth,
while the powerful make their plans.
No land, no rice fields,
renting a house in the city.
Though drowning in hardship,
still waiting for peace and safety.
#សំឡេងស្ងប់ស្ងាត់