I ran along with the flowing rivers
but at the glance of goons felt shivers.
I sprang fast with the whooshing deer
but had for the brutes inner fear.
Standing under the falls I forgot time
and relished in the groves the cuckoo's rhyme.
Lying on the hill-tops, I lost in dreams
and if rolled down there would be no screams.
I played the strings of strong hearts by my songs
but was alone in grief from the jolly throngs.
The calves and cubs caught me by their looks
and I got no bail to come out of the books.
Beauty and innocence are the human goods
but to seek them, the sages roam in woods.
The lovely births in numbers slump
yet they dare buoyant children to bump.
O God, save the children from the fiery men's ire!
They speak of religion to wreck the world in fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.