If there lies a minuscule God hidden
in the deepest pits and burrows of my heart,
I call upon You,
With obligatory alms, lamps,
and chants dispersing vibrance
that yearns for Your presence.
On my knees, my palms pressed together,
my head bowed low,
I pray for the death of our nation!
For its airports, railways, courts, prisons,
schools, and colleges shall wither away
like dust beneath my feet.
The moribund urbans that bow
willingly to foreign scavengers,
The rotten rurals that scream
with naked violence, dogmas,
and feudalism beneath the facade of culture,
The goons of the state who guard
these citadels with pride and honour,
And the oligarchs throughout—
Shall all burn beneath the Saharan desert, skinless!
For the suffering we endured in the face of capital,
For the sacrifices we made
for the petty fights of the imperialists
for their place in the sun,
For the hundreds of millions of us
who are faceless slaves
to the so-called “civilized” nations,
Our kind shall triumph over the contradictions throughout!
For on that day, we shall all gather
together with joyous smiles,
arrogance, and pride as victors,
Watching the new beginning unfold—
As the knocks of death reach our nation’s doorsteps!
