Weep Not Over The Dead Poem by Venkateswaran Krishnan Sreenivasan

Weep not over the dead, weep for the living;
For the mother, over her martyred son, grieving,
For the nestling baby in the nest, its mouth gaping
For a morsel from its mother in vain and gasping

For the mother who lost her son on the road
Yet lived through her years with a heavy load
In her heart, unshared by the world
That still sheds tears on her shroud.

For the mother who mended us from what we were
Into what we are in mind, body and flair;
Thrown when old into stranger’s care
To die unknown, yet bathed in a tearful fare

Weep for our children orphaned by fate
Of their parents’ guilt, disease or death,
Starving and working for a breath
Of life to grow up with inhuman trait

Weep for the beggars with the sun scorched face
Homeless, hungry and hunting in chase
For the waste in the street from what we eat
Like dogs; what an ignoble treat?

Weep for our people suppressed for years
By other cultures and races, drowned in tears;
Still mired in ignorance and disease
Despite our freedom; how elusive is peace?

Weep for our country whose rulers are kings
Leading a flock of ignorant slaves
And clinging to their throne against surging waves
That sweep our nation’s poor weaklings

Weep for our nation being splintered by greed
By the goons who govern for their ghoulish need
On region, religion, caste and creed
Whither will this our country lead?