So crushing is the oppression,
look where you will,
that every hand is bloodied
That robs the honest till.
Sylllables of hope seem limp
against the squeeze of perfidy;
those that still sing of love
are like corals in the sea.
May be the waters will yet arise
to sink the Pharos of our day;
May be legions of little men
will unleash from this May.
A fury that no force may stop,
fuelled by wrath of the just;
May be the sweat of the honest brow
will satiate a righteous thirst.
Badri Raina