Mother's fortitude

Oh mother, your sorrow is

Condensed in a drop of dew!

River flow is dead,

Mountain’s furcaps gone.

Hungry fields, thirsty valleys

Hollowed cavities of mine

Sans ores and minerals;

Broken bones drained of marrow.

Your prodigal children quarrel,

Squander, despoil and desecrate,

Oh, Mother, your august person!

No stars seen in summer night

No moon in autumn bright;

Soot and dust blind atmosphere

Puffed by man made monsters.

Oh, Mother, your sorrow is

Condensed in this drop of dew

On rusted tip of a grass blade.

It shivers in the poisoned signs

Of air and bleeds when

Pierced by a laser hot

Lone ray of the morning sun,

Then evaporates last tear drop too,

Oh Mother, still you forgive;

Too much is your legendary fortitude!