When you spoke of swing,
I thought of starving.
When you spoke of better living,
I thought of living better.
When you spoke of happiness,
I thought of our pitiable existence.
When you spoke of contentment,
I thought of resentment.
The life and luxuries enthrall you,
It also makes you awestruck.
But for us it's deplorable,
A mere captivation in liberation.
The life which you commend
Makes us to awe at it.
All the finest belongings were owned by you
And you left us just the sludge and slush.
Is this all happened just because of our birth,
Just because of our caste and creed?
Or is this all the boon we sought on earth?
No, it's because of your transcending power,
Your plunging supremacy,
That rose higher and higher knowing no bounds.
But ours' go not high, but deep in the ground.
And remember, one day or the other;
We'd come out as a tremor,
To breathe the ether;
To reach heights more than yours;
And to rejuvenate a better life
Though we struggle,
Expecting a probability to arise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem