It seems someone has cast a dark net
and the town has become a trout caught in that net;
It seems no morning has ever approached here,
the town has sub-merged in an over-flowing darkness.
The town seems to be an island of fairy tale.
It seems someones, like giants, are snatching away
the ornament from a teen girl’s forehead
and then devouring her bone-marrow with rapture.
It seems someones, by tearing the civilization into pieces,
are eating up finally its bones and flesh.
Hadn’t ever a single monk or saint come
amid the darkness here?
Then you, o poet, take the responsibility
and play the guitar of light into this darkness.
