I Am India Poem by Tuna Biswal

My children are anxious to pick up the rags.
I am happy as my hands are free in shackled legs.

Sacred were my fathers who me begotten
Who kept me for months in their womb heaven.

I was born in midnight to lucky parents
Who died as bone after selling flesh garments.

The pain was pleasant as my fathers were my mothers,
Six decades passed but my sons no longer live together.

I saw the change as my tears balm my scar,
Others say I am now rich like the Russian czar.

Yet, my sons collect rags for the life they live,
Need element another more for their body survive.

Now I beget the sordid child of destiny;
Who travel to the West for his life gaiety.

Here my children eat air and sleep on fire;
There all fatten in water as the land has no pyre.

I am INDIA, My soul is one that live in hundred body;
One by one gone no matter waiting to live in Arcady.

Tuna Biswal