where the skies are blue
where the skies are blue the soil on the earth is red,
And where even the birds wear the silver lines
and golden mist Of human values and divine spells
where the purity is but a flow mellowing the breeze
and is fragrant and the pregnant mountains spill
happiness when touched by silver clouds
All together aim to cleanse the gutters of sin
siphoned off the unholy acts of human
who devour the skin and flesh of nature
and its flowers lower the dignity
with disambiguation the tilt of indulgence
ridicule making creation for filthy recreation.
The kindly sentinels on mountains still guard
the sanctity bearing naked sun And pouring rains
still tend to wash off The incorrigible glib
and grime of humans who knows whether the nature wins
or the worlds come to an end as the MAYANS proclaim.
నేను మనువుని మీ తనువులో అణువును
ఒకప్పుడు స్వాయంభువుని
అంతరాలు గడచి వైవస్వతమనువైనాను.
ఒకప్పటి ప్రళయజలధిని
నా తరాల తరింపనెంచిన స్వామిని
చిరుచేపగా దోసిలిఒగ్గి పట్టాను.
చిరుచేపగా దోసిలిఒగ్గి పట్టాను.
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