Journey to the Presidential Palace
Rojio Usham *
With their head held high,
Our Kings are generously walking,
with their generously spirits
to entertain the poor,
to the Presidential palace,
a road through the autumnal park.
On the way, in the vast field,
the withered rice ear crops up,
against the blue cloudy sky
at spring sunrise, seeing the passers-by.
Thrilled to meet the President,
our Kings fail to notice
the apprehension of the cropping rice,
A single rice ear,
when everything is sealed.
Shines like a sun on the evil and the good;
They don’t know what it is about.
They never had time to learn.
They were thrown in,
Or rather, they jump in
They are taught the established rules,
so that they don’t change their affairs.
See, our brave Kings
are walking down the lane
With the white caps, white* kurtas*,
white *pyjamas* and white *chapals*,
they never wore before,
to entertain the poor,
with their charcoal heart and mind.
* Poem from Rojio Usham.
He can be contacted at urojio(at)gmail(dot)com . This poem was webcasted on March 09, 2010.
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