Our bus waded
The flood-criss-crossed road,
For several hours
In sheer disgust of a failed polity.
O In complete boredom!
Choked by billows of tears,
I ponder over our avaricious demagogs
Who have cast upon the people,
A spell of starvation malady,
Though they receive incredulous panegyrics
From the cradle to the vault.
But suddenly,
My poor-bemoaning soul was
Daubed by fluid of serenity.
Borne out of derision, I mumbled,
'What's the hurly-burly about?
I should chortle at these pseudo-janitors,
Who are girdled by obfuscation,
For now they've fissured
Our economic monolith
(the boon of our political sinew) ,
Nudging it into arbor
Fenced by pandemonium,
While wreathing it with emblem of disgrace'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem