I can go to war with those this very day
who are against hunger,
who are against death
and who take arms against the invaders.
Boars are destroying all the crops of life
entering the fields of civilization;
jackals are devouring the corpses of our kith and kin
digging their graves;
vultures are singing the rotten withered songs of democracy
clutching the map of our heart;
leaving my home for ever, I can go away with those
who are against these boars,
who are against these jackals and vultures
and who draw irritated hands
against their aggressive hands.
Now my heart cries
saying war war. Saying war war,
my heart bursts into anger
like an atom bomb.
Life is nothing but war,
and living without war means mere death.
The river whose course is serpentine
is the most beautiful of all.