The innocence of childhood,
The joy of motherhood; the pride of fatherhood,
Consumed in the peace of the night
In one night, death comes to them, naked and unprepared
They screamed! Running here and there, helpless,
Like a toad in a pond of boiling water
Some meet death with open eyes
Others were massacred beyond eyesore
Life is cruel to the peasants’ farmers
Men who earn their living without con
How unfair life had cheated them
In the peace of the night, sleep was murdered,
Death comes to them naked and unprepared
But, their eyes were watching God
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem