A city that burns in red, a river that flows in blood
The pagoda with golden people suddenly got blurred
The vision of the platinum temple of Lord Shiva pales
Humans suddenly turn hungry tigers claw and nails
The thunderous weirdness and the hiss of anger
Explosions and bombings, arson and murder
The happy memories of friendship on the border
All disappear but the sadness still lingers.
The train to Pakistan and Hukumchand's wiles
Peace is ruined, brother is killed, love loses smiles
When will the river stop flowing in blood
When it will carry silt and not dirty mud
The city of Troy burnt long ago, why a new one
Hate defeats all, It will protect none
Some worship cows with iron firm vows
For banning slaughter, all passions they rouse
But no tears in their eyes
When the skies are covered with sad sighs
of mothers who lost their all when they spread lies
about life and relations of man to man
How many times we tried to stop the slaughter
Not of the cow but of man, We could, We can.
(Recalling the Riots)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem