O My Country! O Life! O Sad Time!
On who’s every stride I grew,
Wavering at that where I had stood before;
When will revisit the past splendor of your rhyme?
Perhaps never -Oh, never more!
Through out the days and night
All the pleasures are out of sight:
Divisive reservation, communal secularism and corruption roar;
Fill my fragile heart with torment, but real delight;
Perhaps never -Oh, never more!
Independent age’s same old sad story,
Sixty years of hunting and robbery,
Aches to be liberated from pain and sore,
Only the senses of gloom sway,
Perhaps never -Oh, never more!
Not a mainly novel fixture but timeless told,
Mad messiahs have grown strong and bold;
Wise voices pushed out the door....
Prudent heart dismissive and cold,
Perhaps never -Oh, never more!
Where my dear nation going?
Now isolated; so beguiling
Like a little helpless girl, Oh no more!
But always blissful babe in our arms frolicking;
Perhaps never -Oh, never more!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem