Truth Poem by Kanishka SricharanPratap

I spoke the truth
So is the storm
A terrible storm.

So many daggers
Bombs and black-guns
Target me
From all around.

What can be done now?

May I hide in the cave?
Or
May I surrender at their feet?

No such is not written
In my fate.
Then?

Now
I may fire the missile
Of great truth!

As soon as it bursts
Must create a wonderful road!
For my grandson
Grandson's grandson.


Translated from Odia by
Subash Chandra Mohapatra