They come soonest to excel
Not even as aliens after all
They come servile to their own
And soon each grows a paunch
They come in a day's wheel trip
And grow dramatically big overnight
They arrive as guests of their kin
Only to flourish-this money making maestros
They come and soon outshine
Yet let making maestros stay
Let them forever stay
North is utter saltless without this genii
Let these money machines stay
But sad voices from home are calling out
Calls from men making mischiefs their preys
And it wearies me hearing the call
They come and soon become what to be
Tycoons we see them of the highest rank
Magnates made in eye-blinking fastness
Moguls as good as the best in the world
The voices are calling to home
And many a call are shrouded in a guile
The magnates we see can't be better moguls
The tycoons will need visas to return to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem