Never a poet, a lover of beauty.
Nor a singer, a devotee of music.
Words burst out from my heart.
Music whistles from my mind.
Now I am bound to sing aloud
The things which I saw in this land.
Mountains, valleys, rivers and streams
Make your body cute and divine.
But thy children….I feel shame,
Don’t you see the battlefield?
The river of blood and heap of heads,
Make thy body marshy place.
And they will dig the grave for you
That makes me lament and weep always.
Oh my motherland I am alone,
I wish to do a lot for you…but,
My sight is fading, limbs are vanishing
And my body is melting form the soul.
Now I can’t make my words and sing,
Oh! My motherland, I am alone.