In the dark
Of India's ravaged Yoni,
Flickers a tiny flame.
In distant haze,
Victor's blue phallus,
Sniggers at the shame.
His ‘India Gate'
Has names engraved;
Each martyr acclaimed.
No home but,
Not even an inch,
For soldiers for us slain.
Alien beast,
He used, honoured:
No shame.
Our beasts,
They use, spit,
No shame.
India's netas,
Glow enshrined;
Surname.
India's sons,
Rage in the dark,
No name.
India's flag
On that phallus
Weeps for their tiny flame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hail to Indias heroed warrior souls, gone now, from their mortal thread of providence and valour and forever alive now in Gods Kingdom where they who carried there splintered Croses with pride, passion, love of God and Nation.An excellent memorialising tribute, my friend...Very impressive, indeed! ~FjR~