Our past and future are the same,
The river of pain and pleasure,
That flows through is the same,
The soil, the crops and the colour
Of sunlight are the same too,
On both sides similar people live,
And we fight unconcluded fights.
What a victory! What a defeat!
Only Man suffers in the fight of ego.
O! Our common enemy,
Torment us no more, just to please you
We are digging,
Our graves with our own hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem