Rich, red boiling soup........
Spicy, saucy, thick, streaming
And the chickens wailing in pain
Their legs, chest, throat all amputated they bleed and groan.
Garnished with salads and nuts ornate all over
Served in furnished, fantastic cutlery
be it at luncheon or dinner
In every other accident or death it's
lament, misery, malediction
Here at harm, hurt, murder
delight, pleasure, celebration!
Tongues water, passion grows, heart craves for more appetite
Emotions that sprout of violence, revenge, fright........
What an inanimate commodity
involved in such brutal treatment
Then what rapport, feelings, thoughts
is for an animate living being meant?
Wow you poem is chicken soup for soul..............................though i am vegetarian so not problem.............A Good Write........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gargi, I very much share your anguish for those pets. I am a pure vegetarian. But it seems it was God's plan to make one animal as another's food. In certain occupations, like in army, non-veg foods seems to be mandatory, to give necessary strength and that 'killer's instint'. A good poem. Thought provoking