Unbearable becomes the pain in my heart When I think of my people, broken down, broken by disease in mind and limb. On the edge of life they always linger; For countless are the diseases Of Ignorance and Hunger. And on treacherous paths to Slavery like blind children , they would walk behind strangers from over the sea. O, divine Land, blessed by the gods! O, ancient Mother of Culture and Art! Thy children today are spineless hordes. — Mahakavi Subramanya Bharathi ( Poem written for Indian Freedom Movement ) When I Think Of My People Broken Down, as translated in The Poetry of Sri Lanka, in Journal of South Asian Literature, Vol. 12, No. 1 (Fall-Winter 1976), published by Asian Studies Center, Michigan State University
Posted on: Wed, 23 Apr 2014 08:50:28 +0000
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