A God's child was born in the mud
Earth had no place; it was nipped in the bud.
There was no mourning, only the mother wailed
God quietly succumbed, he was once more impaled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for such poetic realization. Tapas, Kolaghat, Purba Medinipur, W.B.