A tough old race of ancient men,
Kin to the dynasaur,
Now return to recharge the earth
With ablutions of gore.
Not a tree that does not bend
To the whisper of their tread;
Not a bird of free discourse
Who is not full of dread.
What were cities and high-rises
Are lethal caves and grottos;
I see mammoths stomp the streets
Where used to be autos.
Monkeys with monster tails
Are sentinels to nations;
Creatures with elephant heads
Preside over deliberations.
For long did mere humanity
Enfeeble the earth;
Sapiens seem once again
To recoup a primitive birth.
What pride that this revolution
Should boldly portend
From a hallowed territory
Of no beginning, no end.
Badri Raina