Even straight from birth hour,
Great burden awaits him, a task
Backed in relief, little innocent.
Families across the hamlet calls
Solely on one pillar, their life-wire
Who cross land and waters for food
A call, a clarion note of lamentation
A cry of anguish, demoralizing it is
When shall my fruit be ripe?
When will my labour manifest
When will this accrued be cleared?
The old-man wane from his aging chair
Our leaking roofs of thatch nature
Carefully carried in rickety walls
Even when we know all of these
Even if these are and elephant task
He is able, our only reliance
Our beloved blood, a steadfast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem