God bless the doctors
who wage wars,
against the Hanzen’s disease
to kill the leprae
that kills the hope
of the human race.
Race, religion and caste
help all of us to group and fight.
But AIDS isn’t partisan’
It rains mortars
On all mortals immoral.
When you’re proud to say
You’ve tasted fruits above seventy,
why can’t AIDS hit a ton?
The food to children,
man adulterates;
brews and distills
health -drinking drinks;
drugs and brown-sugars,
he smuggles in stealth.
He is bereft of humane humanwares!
O God, what fault You did
in man’s first creation?
He buys arms, missiles
and fighter-bombers,
fearing not of ‘tholidamide’
that fissiled
Brazilian babies
into devilish shapes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem