The herbal doctors in our towns,
Sell herbs from the plants for every ailment,
Pound the seeds and crush the leaves,
Decoction of the roots and tincture of ales,
The paste of turmeric and neem,
Cocktails of bitter, sour and sweet,
They have managed their trade,
Many thousand years holding the name tags,
Our sick people still visit the herbalists,
For the quick relief from diabetes and hypertension,
Even for cancer and the notorious AIDS,
Not only poor and destitute do this,
Even well educated and the informed resort to this,
Once abandoned by the society and the modern doctors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem