Those who will go back to the cow-cart’s civilization
And to the civilization of hand-made palm-leaf’s fan;
Those who want to cross seven oceans and thirteen rivers on foot
And to fill up the the east and the west with the odors of corpses;
Those who will go back to illiteracy
And to the spells of witches, talismans and superstitions;
Those who think `dogs are more faithful than men’
And trust on fate-ghosts more than on struggle, slogan and procession;
Those who will destroy people’s dwellings with bulldozers
And on that debris will build up the palace for foxes and boars;
For those idiots, my poetry as angry as cobra
And as ferocious as hyena, bear sad news burnt in fire.
