A procession
Of
Flags of sun
In the hands
Lifted to furious
Skies
A storm of revolution -
My country
A colony of suns -
We fling
Into valleys
Of hearts
On to peaks of mountains,
Burning songs,
We eat sun
We drink sun
We burn in the sun
Day in day out.
We are moving bodies of iron
We are metallic men -
Our hearts
We dedicated to the colonies of sun,
We squeezed the inside animal
In rivers of sweat
Flowing like spirit of Vedas
And dried them on strings of sun,
Holding flags of sun joined the unending journey.
Through streets, towns, villages that we pass,
On lips of anaemic flowers
Blossoming on helpless trees
Peels of laughter
Stretch their naked bodies
Heaps of grain in the fields
Cry with million voices
When their parents walk away
With mere turbans of sunshine,
Plough piercing the heart of earth
Raises a painful shout
Look!
If the sky flings the sun as a challenge on man
Man kicks the sun
Back into the sky -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem