A poor and simple villagerly boy,
Went he to Nagaland to work
As for the road construction
In the company of people
Moving to
But returned he not,
The poor black boy,
Just the telegram from a distant hospital
Came it,
Our deepest condolences to the family!
Oh, the poor, small and simple village boy
Who used to pull the rickshaw
Of his father,
The poor black boy,
Far and far away from Bihar
To the northeastern fringes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem