A Poetic translation of
Forests & mountains lay buried
Under miles of Sand
Rotting rivers ebb, dying!
Even God has laid down his hands
What have you done?
What have we done?
Parched …thirsting for a drop,
As sand flows down his cheeks,
Not a single dark cloud in the sky.
Under the blazing sun,
With only the hovering vultures for shade.
Breathing … hoping!
Fondly reminiscing, green fields swaying
Cows scrunching away!
Alas! churches, temples and mosques
Are filled with people praying,
For just a drop of water.
Wandering in search for a droplets,
Will he find his way back?
As the paucity increases,
Hope begins to dwindle
He prays for a quick,
How lucky… oblivious the city is;
Veined with its pipes and canals,
Showing off fancy fountains,
And gushing taps
Please take a moment,
Remember those dying for just a drop
You must stop,
There’s a little time
Wastage of this precious,
Life sustaining liquid is a crime!