The Warriors Without Weapons Poem by Poola Bala Venkat

The relentless warriors have no weapons except unity.
unity of the people is the fuel of the movement
that from the hearts of the people springs.
As the blood red sun dawns the pain of the broken sinews
the wounds and clotted blood wakes up men,
women children and goats all set out on their mission
to save their mother Andhra and march like troops
with flags banners and paraphernalia
neither the gunfire nor the gas shells
can deter the gallant Andhras
their flesh is weak but not their spirit.
riled by the phantasmagoria of the bloodshed
they go jive on the roads dive into action
with the drums, dance, cries, disdaining the palate hunger
they offer their bodies to the police lathies.
They are beleaguered, beaten trampled trodden and
tortured all day long they fight and shout,
the sun sets they go home but their struggle doesn't end there.
The next morning they appear with smile in the battle ground.
They rise like a wave against foxy politicians.