History stands stagnant here.
Every stone weeps in pain.
Each boulder was chiseled out,
by bleeding hands of slavery.
Cruelty was sculptured by whims.
Peeled skins of serfs still bleed,
puts a skin veil on face conscience.
Each rock cut tells pain of life.
Sounds of whip lashes still heard,
reverberate In the minds of historians,
disturbs silence of desert nights.
Pharaohs were born to create pyramids,
lived Just to create luxury chambers for them,
to live happily ever after death as mummies.
Does anybody care for those?
Who shaped this marvel?
toiled day and night, flowed blood and sweat.
Their children grew to become another vassal.
Oh mighty pyramids hear those echoes,
from hearts of each boulder.
You can hear cracking pain of souls
who made you a mighty wonder? .
Still you are a wonder to the eyes of world!
World looks at you with wide eyes with awe!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem