The jackals loitering into the city areas
Leaving the forests
Are complaining against
The cutting of trees,
Clearing of forests
And its mindless burning
In forest fires
And the waste heaps, the dumpyard
The places of its visits
And hunt for food
Where the stary dogs too can be seen
In full gears to quarrel
Which used to fear once,
The poor jackals are complaining
And saying to petition against
Through mass signatures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem