In a village Panchgoan,
Populus of Komodo Dragon.
People enjoy with them,
People eat food with them.
Two kings of population,
They do not kill,
They do not harm,
But they save village,
Save from wrongdoer.
On swift and change,
Someone attacked them,
Someone poked them,
At last killed one.
With dysphoria,
Day passed with thinking,
But no action took,
Again grisly night occurred.
Two kings were spiritual,
They sedately started chanting,
Chanting Krishna Krishna!
Continued for days and days.
Krishna appeared with love,
They got filled with happiness,
They got enchanted.
They wanted him to stay with them.
Thus night got to end,
With no fight,
But with death of two people,
Village filled with joy
It filled incorporeal.
Two kings started praying God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem