This is the bored ocean,
Crowdy and chaos
We are chained,
With Poverty, thought maze,
unemployment, caste,
religion and language,
Each link is very weak.
Millions cry did not matter
Few selected roars commandeth
We are so weak,
We can’t identify into the dark,
Blame and claim,
we are mastered with this arts
In fact, in our mind
There hid a thief thought
Truth is this:
Beyond the bored ocean,
There is a golden sun rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem