To A Chinese Refugee Child

5

And why not ours

we , your neighbours

four hundred millions,

only a burden to mother earth

slaves of circumstances

unable even to move a finger

with hearts as cold

as the high Himalayas

unthawed as yet

by your country?s conflagration

waiting with frozen wills

for some unknown folly

Bhagirath

Oh world decaying

striving to live

each denying life to other

lost for ever in mean endeavour

 of snatching other’s lands

with plenty of room for all of us

 to live in peace and joy

fighting and killing

all in utter folly

Where in the midst of rich abundance

 of life giving food

famine man-made stalks

starvation holds the day

set afoot by those exploiters

 who never lend a hand

to till the land but only sell and retail

each cutting the throat of other

which pays a greater price

 for the so called precious metal

than for the priceless human life

which flings a fortune

over an oysters spittle

 and treats like dirt

the sweat of human brow

 Which throws but a penny

 for fruits of human labour

hard won as gems

from within the womb of stone

Where science or economics

only spells disaster

Where power vests with impertinence

and reason plays the slave of cash

 

 

 

That decaying world

 must suffer the dire doom

 for having embraced illusion

and spurned reality

the doom of war

annihilating

the conquered and the conqueror

 

May the final doom of total annihilation

fall at last upon that dying world

annihilation

 of that world

and all its deadly dying civilisation

There’s no regret

no, not a tear

left for it with us

We are only amassing fuel enough

 for a funeral pier

with the sole care

 that this deadly war

 may prove to be its last gasp

 last and final

with no escape into a prolonged life -in-death

 

 Verily

from the ashes of decaying old world

will rise the phoenix of the new

 the new world

 with new conditions and organisations

new commandments and aspirations

the phoenix

 spreading its wings over the globe of the earth

 the dove of peace

 humming not the feeble note of truce

twixt end of one and spark of another war

but the mighty bird

 gripping away the war mongers

in its massive claws

and flinging them awayinto nothingness

like mighty elephants

in the claws of Shanti Bhirund

 the Bhirunda of the new world

 

 

 

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