Long ago the poet scripted a manifesto:
‘the black statement of pistons', whistling
the departure of a train to its destination;
word-picture of a singing, majestic journey.
Manifestos now abound not only in black,
but in other colours, promising end of misery,
hunger, poverty, dawning of rosy days
designed to mesmerize the credulous minds.
Launched with fanfare, they shape slogans
mouthed with voices raised to screaming pitch.
Unaccountable, they may lie as piece of papers,
once polls are won; yet their luring tales go on.
*The first stanza has a reference to Stephen Spender's
poem ‘The Express'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem