I am talking of a beginning, when nothing is there;
A red glowing ball rolls through paths of eternity:
It moulds the shape of new life, upheld a bliss;
Still you conspire to name Red the color of violence!
I am talking of a revolution, when no justice is made;
A red flow stumbles on uncountable horrors of past;
It brings the promise of a new order, glorify humane;
Still you conspire to name Red the colour of violence!
I am talking of a celebration, where no agony is induced;
A red vermillion flies to mist round the air, exaggerate beauty;
It drives out the gloomy moron monotone, re-discover you;
Still you conspire to name Red the colour of violence!
Red is blood, it sheds for a better cause, perhaps a better order!
Red is fire, it burns to yield a better life, a better part of satire!
Red is also love, love binds you and me with none for none!
Will you still conspire to name Red a colour of violence!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem