In the recent monsoon
Our rivers felt as if
The mountains had bled
From fresh wounds
Their flesh has gone,
Across the green seas,
To the distant Chinaman
To fill out his bones.
(Iron ore exports to China in the wake of the pre-Olympics construction boom have left deep wounds on our mountainscape in the Hospet region)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem