Cut the wing
Its time to halt the wind
That has swiftly swept off
Our tradition and custom
And broke our ancient bow-string
Are we what we were?
Stark naked without cover
But still warm within
Exploit never but endure nature
With reverential awe and fear
Have not we lost much?
Our glowing hearth
Crowded now by people with frozen heart
Other left body and soul crush
Few advance with haste and rush
Is it not time for us to act?
We stand witness to tumultuous transition
In tryst with fate of new generation
To retrospect and retract
Not to remain mute but react
Cut the wing
Its time to halt the wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem