Far away from
The human sense,
There he lay,
Still, in a peaceful sleep.
Care not the world,
Care not the nation,
Beside the beautiful nature
There he rests,
In an antique cell.
World remembers the history
But soon,
Forgets the past.
Bitter to taste
Its lifeless art
Stinks to smell
Its bloody present.
Oh my sprit!
Rise up from death
To feed my nations’
Car-case children
Suffocate and suffer
From the cannibalistic shells.
Reincarnate my Mahatma,
Now,
Death can’t ever stop you
Return from the flowers, the fruits,
The birds, the nature,
Never from the human race
Our men are futile.