He is on the laps of beautiful women longer,
Neglecting my children and I to be the paupers,
Sitting on the chairs and dreaming of her,
The movement of her hips now gone haphazard,
The eyes and the lips wear the makeup of the old,
He has become the mouse, hiding behind the tag,
One after another he is getting seduced,
Flow of the alcohol and the free supply of fresh blanket,
This man is always on the bed, singing the songs from old Tamil,
My children and I are on the roads, sweeping and scrubbing,
For the living, our lands are sold to the developers for the dirt,
I want to be a seductress to lure this man to my bed,
My sons have to weave the knowledgeable saree to wrap me,
My daughters have to be bold to stand against the evil,
But he wants to see me in mini skirt and body fit,
Coloring my lips with dark red lipstick,
The fluttering of my eye lashes is not false,
The pounding noise from the mortar is gone,
I am a seductress and would like to seduce this man,
Sometimes he behaves as the child, prostrating,
At every need, even in the assembly and on the streets,
Must relieve him from the spirits of ignorance,
Must relieve him from the chain of selfishness,
Must teach him the lessons of unity and prosperity,
There our children will grow with parity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem