CANTO V11
You living corpses! Look! Falcons are hovering over your cities
That silent trees do not speak is an idea of your ignorance but they are monks
living on their inner energy. in the civilization of mix of huts and mansions
you commit suicides and flatter them as self-realization.
your speeches are charred chastity of languages
Trees rising out of the burning bosom of earth give soulful cool shade.
In woods ruled by winds man can penance without out lose of revere.
On the highway of your cities we find bullock carts
dragging like unbearable ancient burden.
Motorcars flash by like vanity on wheels,
do not even glance at the rows of trees on the roadside.
Old and new slight one another in your path.
Values of nature have been cast away by your view.
That eagle flying wing to wing with the plane in the high skies is not a mere bird
It is an ancient bird gazing from the ramparts of the azure at the rise and fall of civilizations.
Those civilizations Which Man unfurls as symbols and flags of his victory in pages of his history.
Looking at man's trumpeting vainglory mountains are in snide splits
Oceans are smiling in doubt; sky is roaring in laughter,
ancient forests, wombs of wisdom are in pain making inaudible commentaries
Oh Man! Where are your feet taking you?
Those feet bending under the burden of your shallow civilizations.
Listen! Sitting on the boundaries of centuries storms are screaming -
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