Reservation Poem by Kanishka SricharanPratap
Reservation
At midday
In screw-pine bushes
Delivered me
Those leaders.
By my name
Looted vote,
Sat on chair,
Ate...,
Country is empty!
You voter
Hindu voter
Without killing me
From root
Took care... Fed...,
Got empty!
Now I am a great tree!
Now time of civil war!
You will be hewed!
Again
Country will be
Divided!
Translation from Odia by
Subash Chandra Mohapatra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 8:32:46 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
