This industry is very strange!
We produce kids!
Under mid-day meals
And eggs
We teach.,
Make a whirl...
And nourish the child!
In quota of jobs
Unemployment allowances
BPL rice
Ration cards
We cut their limbs,
Make limbless.
We do loot... loot and loot
In thousands of plannings,
Sow seeds of terror,
Water
Manure in the field!
The bomb of impure religion
Super bomb...
We set
In every mind!
We screw the law
Rescue the criminals
Heinous criminals,
Escape ourselves.
Occupy the throne
For all times to come.
Translated from Odia by
Subash Chandra Mohapatra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem