They hacked the horn of
An innocent wobbly denizen.
Alas! It's truly questionable -
Men of lame justification,
Whom are you hacking?
A mere animal for its horn
Or the state's glory
Nay, the world's pride?
Don't your hearts bleed
When you bleed it to death?
Perhaps, you possess
Wretched hands of cruelty,
But terribly lack
The most precious asset -
An inner voice.
[Published: 4 July 2010 in 'melange' of 'The Sentinel']
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem