An Ancient Yield Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

An ancient yield

Stones speak
And break
Dead silence
Of past at once

How many old civilizations disappeared?
And many more are still feared
The stones have inscription
And that is how we build opinion

Had there been nothing!
We could have been helpless to bring
About our glorious past
That had lasted many centuries

Let us shed no tears about slavery
That too stood as golden period all over country
We had powerful stone builds
Those speak today of our ancient yield

Let more excavations be made
And develop centers for trade
Bring in unknown art and handicrafts
The scars are seen left out