When the enemies surrounded their homes,
Their guns were sleeping tight
Pouring oil into their noses.
When their mothers, sisters, wives and daughters
Were being raped together on the same bed,
Their guns were sleeping tight
Like Kumbhakarna.*
And finally when they were attacked
And being slaughtered like bulls
Felling them on the ground,
Still their guns were into deep sleep.
Someone rushing said to them, 'Brethren,
Kindly make your guns awake.'
They, setting hands on his mouth, said,
'By God, never utter such a word;
Let the guns sleep peacefully
As they are sleeping now;
We want to see them sleeping this way for ever;
Even after the doomsday, we want to see
No one has come to break their innocent sleep.'
* a mythical monster mentioned in the Indian epic Ramayana who slept six months at a stretch.
I think there is a time to sleep and another time to be quite awake. When awake use all their strength to protect themselves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sleep while all around terror invades, then they are slaughtered, I wonder what is the point of them having guns if they don't protect themselves!
Right. I am always impressed by your brilliant comment.