Sparkling, all his children died,
slowly scattered on earth as ash
Yesterday, someone set fire to the old sky
The 9 year old boot polish boy
can not sleep under your shadow
He slaves all day
and yet you never served
the empty plate of his stomach
You sharpen the fire in the stove everyday
and the plate heats up
You should not have ignored
his hunger.
Look at those adivasis
who preserve your vast nature
How scared
How subdued
Withered
they look
A wolf
Slowly drives them along
Like raw meat
You should not have neglected
The sharp edges of their arrows
Their calls and cries
The grains of the forest’s ashes
Your gift of barren land
they watered with their sweat
growing feasts for the world
Their son stands
with hands outstretched before a landlord
when he should have been the real prince
Black crows
licking the soft river of the body
spilling through torn clothes
dividing turn after turn their loot
That is their daughter
who should have been the real princess
And they lie
dead in the middle of he harvest
in their own field
You should not have neglected
the slavery of these farmers
Last night
I met them all
(1.Tribal people)
vaishakh rathod
I've enjoyed reading your poem, Rathod. Thanks for sharing and.. WELCOME at PH! :)
very nice poem; the pain and suffering of the exploited tribals are expressed very poignantly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A narrative piece of poetry depicting tragic consequence of exploitation and slavery of poor by the rich and powerful. A well articulated poem nicely penned with conviction. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.