The Eastern Souls Wail! ! ! Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

When I was left as Eve with a man,
who was called as a rib bone less Adam,
in the garden, littered with speaking snakes,
I did not find any captain to help us out,

When I was heavily pregnant and panted,
not on the mowed lawn but on the stones,
Adam had neither the biceps nor the triceps,
as in the painting of Genesis; Cain was born,

Which parent would leave their kids naked?
Which parent would leave their children homeless?
Those light houses on the shore simply show a signal,
the drifting wood loaded with lots of love succeed

forgiveness need not to be sought when innocent,
all these iron chains that tied our vision and progress,
have to be melted with common sense, not with hymn and verse,
Eves of the west are loaded; the eastern Eves still wail! !