Why should I rebel ever
And be a part of a revolution
That demands that I
I, flesh, body and soul
Be a martyr to the cause
That may or may not succeed?
What about those who went
Down the bloody violent path
Bruised, beaten and hacked?
What have they gained
But names of lonesome streets
Lanes, by lanes and stony pillars
Where garlands fall at every anniversary
And decay there as their once wasted lives?
Let the revolution be ever red
But let it not be of my precious blood
Long live....., long live the revolution!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You read like Browning!