The newly-caught cobras showed he,
Both of them with the fangs,
Not broken yet,
Full of wrath and vengeance,
Hissing instantly and hooding.
One of them was a white cobra,
Not wholly,
But partly
while the other was
A chocolate colour cobra
And he with a root
Controlling it,
Daring with courage
And faith in the Snake-god.
Cobras live in the field beds,
Anthills,
Pond guard walls,
Stems and bushes and forests
Or the orchard plots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem