Fire-works work with ire
I in ire flame out, then
Third eye of Lord Siv, then
Opens, burns down the lyre.
Festival in haste a waste
Drizzling tears and sweat
In oozing blood and groans
Hear uncouth glee in jerks.
It is not lord Siva's third eye it is the unhealthy practice and ego make the humanity unkind and frowardness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The fire work mishap in Quilon has literally submerged everyone in tears! The survivors suffer more than the deceased. Hope in future, the people will exercise greater caution in handling such explosives and authorities will see that things work within restrictions! I don't think any God will be appeased with this kind of fireworks.