You are questioning about the roots of reminiscences, carried by me
Since the time, I was thrown away
You are murmering about the traces of
The fragrance of the soil
Flown from the plow edge
You are asking straight about
The authentication of dried ribs
Which ploughed my body
To grow the country
What can I say
Shall I count
Lower races, extincted
Owing to the power thirst of
Predictions of Manu
Shall I count the yield of
The cultivation, done with the blood of
My land, occupied forcedly
Shall I say the address of the heaps of tombs, which makes the life, a mirage
By cutting it’s throat
Now, I might be a citizen or an Indian
A disposed body, not remembered
I am a Question
In this chaos..!
Telugu Original
Dr. Jada Subbarao
Translated by Prof. K. Sarojadevi
