The Last Survival
Where
a green-land, from
a
soviet of greenery, will
verge
to your arid land
to
share its serene shadows?
To
cool thy searing heat of sand dunes?
A
terrain of scorching sizzles,
Where Janoki never
dares to arise
at
the tip of the futile ploughshare!
Where
Luni’s water turns in vapour
before
to reach at draughty thirsts!
Yet,
O!
the son of Desert,
Ye
be Cactus!
Glory
to thee! Glory thy land!
You,
the last shadow, the last
heir
of oxygen! Darwin’s obliged apostle,
the
only flora of the living star;
Creator’s
helpless hope to save Mankind,
Baptizing
you for His dearest sons
Who’re
lost in their devotion
to
live in green house
to
write a thoughtful preface
for
the next world’s mortal science!
O!
the son of Desert,
Ye
be Cactus!
Glory
to thee! Glory thy land!
God
chooses thee to bid
A
warm farewell to the last survival
Of
His once pure land!
(Published in EnvironmentalLiterature: Research Papers and Poems: 251)