Walking to the top of the hill,
Enshrined with custom rocks;
Having the potential to be
Well-known Future Gods.
I saw the red stains,
Of the sacred kumkum
And the ground made golden
by the yellow turmeric.
On the top I saw,
A sad God standing by the rock,
Still, silent and unnoticed;
And a huge crowd,
Worshiping and praising
A gold plated idol.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem