Don’t count the ribs of the figure.
It’s the image of hunger.
The darkness of the eye
Sometimes you may not believe,
At least, you don’t have to face
The intellectual poverty.
A fresh blood should contain
Some clean water,
To us, cleanliness is next to god.
But my stomach is full of
Impure water—
Bacteria and virus.
The diseases you serve us
Nothing but malnutrition,
Deficiency of food,
Why are you asking for a cake!
A single grain is precious to soul.
A king might be naked for his fashion,
But what else to them—
Nakedness is the constraint to people.
The people who born, brought up,
Want to inhale the beauty of nature,
Want Love like the city of joy.
***
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem