Thirsty people who were killed,
Across the river were my kith and kin,
They were the special ones descended,
On the earth from the heavenly zones.
Imprison or assassinate who remain behind,
They are the triumphant of the lost war,
Sand and wind will dispose of bodies
Of the invaders too, crazy of warfare.
Lo! Soil of the land attracts the war beaten,
They stand across the boundary line,
I pray day and night for wellbeing
Of peace, for the wolves stroll
In the city, in the guise of humans.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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