No otherwise was,
No solace from dedicated past,
And I had to walk with self –lighted torch,
Amidst the friend-faced, indifference.
Those sturdy hands,
Those formidability of swift feet,
Nurtured in support and shelters for dearest ones,
Now feel shame to receive commands.
Cowed I am by their rampant arrows,
Cut - and -start, start- and- cut -art,
And setting a face on the face for a face,
More of the catchy flower-girls in the red-light,
More of the poisonous missiles on innocence.
For my unequal, the Pity itself rises,
To erect a wall to hide my maddening trance!
ore of the poisonous missiles on innocence. For my unequal, the Pity itself rises, To erect a wall to hide my maddening trance! - Beautiful poetic lines, a well composed poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you Shakil Ahmed for your appreciation.Regards