U Win Kyi
Burmese New Year & Water Splashing Festival (2) - Poem by U Win Kyi
April Sun is so hot,
the women wear the strapless tops,
and the pants too short,
howling out the slurring lyric of hip-hop,
ear bursting heavy metal music makes the heart almost stop,
vigorous shaking of boobs non-stop,
gyrating the hips arouse the mob,
their eyes open up with a pop,
some are so high on drug and dance without any exhaust.
These are the scene I see with heart-breaking.
How comes our old tradition is deteriorating.
Is it cultural improving or moral decaying?
For splashing, the water is jetted from a fire engine hose.
The men are drunken with alcohol in heavy dose.
At the on-lookers, they are thumbing their nose.
Some prowl the streets in pick-up truck,
so drunk, when they run out of luck,
then a terrible accident sucks.
With high-pressure water guns, they have raucous water fight,
which goes so ugly, leading to bare-knuckled fists fight.
In ER the doctors are busy bandaging and suturing.
Over the death, the concerned family are wailing and weeping.
The funeral business is doing very brisk,
cos alcohol, drug, high speed and dare-devil acts are mixed.
Some get their voice hoarse after singing at the top of lung.
Some get their skin severely sun-burned.
Smearing the face with soot is a form of rough-house.
For revenge, it will surely be sought.
For a poor man, water festival is a transient fun.
From daily hardship he cannot run.
Skyrocketing price makes him surely done.
His worry is as hot as April Sun.
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