Men defend
their mental status quo
even through a mortal neglect.
But here,
a rare deed
emanates from a girl's heart.
She plucks
the puppy
from the crow beaks that carve death.
Resisting
the pessimistic voices around,
she tends to that stray animal hit by
an auto rickshaw.
Her virtue is buttressed
by her brother and friends.
Confidence illumines hopes.
The flickering life
gets steady.
Let these shoots of virtue
grow
in the parched world.
First published in The Literary Hatchet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem