Don't cry, cry the poor Indians
Don't ask, ask anything, for
You will be certainly hand-cuffed, and
Then, put in jail, put in jail.
Planned by ill-will misled we are
Misruled, oh! friend patriotic.
Cricket is rickets on nation's body
Youth is in illusion and spoils India.
Let Lord Krishna dance again upon
Hoods of snakes polluting life source.
Not our vote for note-bundles
Choose and vote for future splendid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very thought provoking poem. Wining an election means power to loot the country. Nicely penned.