This is you say, it is you, yourself
This is you say it is you, your language itself
This is you say, it is you, your country.
Yet you obstruct
From telling me
In my mother tongue.
That it is we are all together
That they are our languages
It is our country for ourselves.
Think not
That the war cropped up
Out of this conflict, is ended up
Think not
That those who are fallen
Will not rise again.
I am still bringing flowers
Yet, some of you
The elements made up of mere
Politics,
Are coming to vulgarize my image
and pain
My pure heart
Ponniah Ganeshan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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