Let Lanka be made all of gold,
Still, O Lakshman, it leaves me cold.
Greater goes mother, motherland,
How so grand hails heaven’s dreamland.
____________________________
Translation | 21.10.2025 | gold, dreamland, heaven, mother, motherland
Note: Taken from Ramayana. The war is won, Lanka conquered, welcome are they as guests in this golden land. Yet, victorious Rama is eager to go back to his kingdom. Why? The verse explains here. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Api svarna-mayee lankaa na me lakshmana rochate |
Jananee janma-bhoomih cha svargaat api gareeyasee || Ramayana ||
The sky was draped in night’s black cloak,
With a sprinkle of white specks in bloom.
The yellow moon slipped into a gibbous cocoon,
As sunshine fretted in crescent-shaped kites.
But the streets today were painted in bright colours—
They cloaked the rainbow in a toga of envy.
Many danced and sang in melodious harmony,
Dressed like masquerades with neither masks nor veils.
The clouds were clear and gleamed with a faint glow,
Since the last drop of rain they’d stored was in October.
It was the music, played on hand-held instruments,
That shook off harmattan’s dryness from trees and grasses.
"This carnival is like no other,"
A lady in red and white whispered to her husband.
They, like many others, had traveled from far and wide,
To sway their hips and jiggle their feet to Motherland Africa.
The hordes of strange faces mingled with local ones—
Each year, new loves are sparked, and babies are born.
Many a mulatto grows with one half of their roots in photos,
Yet every year brings memories sweet and strong.
I
Namibia is my most beloved country,
Like it is a marvellous Beulah land
With a mighty will, great glory
So, be glorified, my free Motherland.
From red sand deserts to the shining shores
And the sun gives me its setting,
Echoes of the seagulls melodied its choruses,
Masterpiece of Paradise is mesmerizing.
II
Wisdom of the people is ancestor-given
As whose blood waters our freedom is glorified,
Their heroism is unforgotten
And the blessing of diverse culture is bespoken.
What makes me so proud today?
Being a Namibian and free is what I cherish
My love for the Motherland is displayed everyday
May the dreams of my country flourish.
Ekombi; a dance of my motherland.
A dance that soothes the soul.
Ekombi; Efik's pride
A dance of tranquility and beauty.
The attractive smiles on their faces
Like a sudden beam of sunlight, illuminates the earth.
The slow movement of their backs with ekara itong
Is like water lilies floating down a rill.
The rhythmic movement of their shoulders to ekomo iba
Is like the rise and fall of an ocean wave.
Their waist adorned with nkwa isin
Can make a hu-MAN drool for a fling.
The slow movement of their backs with ekara itong
Is like water lilies floating down a rill.
The rhythmic movement of their shoulders to ekomo iba
Is like the rise and fall of an ocean wave.
Their waist adorned with nkwa isin
Can make a hu-MAN drool for a fling.
Their bodies, as soft and tender as honey-dew
Transcends this realm, with Anansa's spell.
Ekombi; a dance of my motherland
A dance, that soothes the soul.
A land of virtues with cultural grace
For myriad religions, a home place
A peace loving paradise by nature
Honoring traditions, its grand feature
Many a scholar hailed from this blessed soil
Reformers made it renowned with their toil
Assorted branches of knowledge flourished
Awe-inspiring arts and cultures cherished
Invaders tried to grab this divine land;
And aimed to deface its glorious brand
The brave leaped into the great freedom fight.
Protected its legacy with much plight
The soil, water and breezes are pious
Adorned with the crown of Himalayas
Handles all hardships with no compromise
A true faithful friend to all its allies
Truth, justice, kindness and love are its stands
For global peace, it always stretches hands
Evergreen is its heritage story.
With a lot of joy, I praise its glory.
Place: 4
If Your Birthplace-country was a poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Date:02-06-2023
We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature-trees, flowers, grass-grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence…We need silence to be able to touch souls—Mother Teresa [Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu]
“But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray.” (Luke 5:16)
In Silence
Her love--she speaks of silence,
without flaws or violence.
Calcutta’s poor whom she served,
this increasingly disturbed.
Simple, free from obsessions
These her only possessions,
a bucket and two saris,
is all she’ll own and carry.
While visiting Darjeeling,
by train saw poor suffering.
Saint Teresa heard the call,
solemn vows; provide for all.
Now known as “Mother” served us
of India for Jesus.
Inner conscience she had sought,
spoke Bengali where she taught.
This a tactical gambit,
chose a white sari habit
with a double blue border,
this she wore for the order.
Touching souls of lives her quest,
without silence there’s unrest.
As stars shine in alliance,
may the wind come in silence.
Nigeria our great and beloved motherland,
where multitudes of tribes unitedly stand.
Our land of hope by two rivers divided,
with lush vegetation by nature provided.
Nigeria our home of people resilient.
A land of great icons in works diligent.
We hail thee our great and revered black nation,
our land of human dignity and redemption.
God arise and take your place as sovereign Lord.
Enthrone Thyself in Nigeria's seat of power.
Make her edicts and laws Thy eternal word.
Let justice prevail in her courts by the hour.
Our flag will peace and industry symbolize,
whilst our history will always immortalize
the deeds and sacrifices of our heroes past.
Help us Lord to serve our beloved land with zest.
Nigeria the blessed will pervasive peace know,
even when the threats of tumults seem to flow.
Her crops and yields will neighbouring countries nourish,
from her fields that inexhaustibly flourish.
Motherland, whole existence l owe,
Motherland, perpetually, I salute...
As many times, I fell
Mother Earth held me in embrace
Pointed at horizon where sky meets earth
Indicating that nothing is impossible
Taught me to aim for Stars up in sky
Said, that's only way to rise after each fall
As many times, I tell
Inspires many to take difficulties head on
All answers are in Mother Earth
It holds Trees, ocean, mountain all alike
See how Earth takes abuse yet gives fruit
Be like Earth, create your unique tale
Motherland, with all reverence I bow,
Motherland, perpetually, I prostate ...
-----------------------------------------------------------------
© Hitendra Mehta
A pity I couldn't comprehend
What is happening to my homeland?!
Utter disarray harming my stand
Lives in the clutches of evil hands
The paths we are to walk have no ends
Face demons or bury heart in sand
Bend to the will, the risk in the wind!
To whom would I spill my reprimand?
Motherland, my love is fine and grand
My words of ivory wrap your land
On your sole soil, souls grow and expand
A pity I couldn't comprehend
What is happening to my homeland?!
In cage, dreaming of a promised land
On my life, you have the upper hand
My words if you feel and understand
My pain if you heal and put an end
Rise to a dare and hold a whip hand
The beast took hold of my fairyland
Reins of reign seized by anarchy bands
The world of lies, my ink couldn’t stand
The rain of words beyond my pen's hand
Homeland, if only you apprehend
To your turmoil I can't be offhand
Forgive my passion to a twin land
World of Ivory, my wonderland!
January 17th, 2019
Among all Nations
North, East, West,
Stretching South
All over the world
Appear the rays
Of the most magnificent
Continent above others
The most adorable and admirable
Of all Motherlands,
The Landmark of Africa
Contented with bright,
Intelligent faces
Like gas particles
Moving into the air
Their fame is spread
And advancement moving their side,
Accompanied by favorable commends
The Continent of Black Majority
Our own Motherland in the Universe
Unlike some other...
Heading towards their extremes
Mama Africa stands unique
Enhancing tomorrow's affluence
At a velocity like none other
Leading the burden bearers
Of tomorrow the positive direction
Distinguishing herself from others
Mama Africa stands above all others
Commemorate her success,
And probably yet to come
On a day somewhere
In the month of May...
Or is it on the 25th?
...food for thought!
Live long Black Majority
And let the rays
Of our Motherland
Continue reflecting on us
Viva Black continent!
Let me take you on a journey to my motherland.
Where beauty meets the eye of the beholder.
Where the sun burns and glistens on my brown skin.
Where the children play freely with no care in the world
Where the market place stands like a rainbow with different coloured materials
Where there are 54 countries.
Standing together to make up my motherland.
Where culture is amazingly fascinating
Where a great leader once lived.
Where they are mouth-watering fruits.
I have to say my motherland is worth the visit.
Glide through the safari,
Take a dive in the Victoria Falls if you dare,
Jive with the Maaasai tribe,
Receive the experience of a lifetime.
I have to say my motherland is worth the visit.
By Christina Okorie
Motherland: Calling
The illusioned glass reflects the lucent moon
Lunacy descends upon the mountain wolves
Autumn's awe inspires the lucid minds
Transgressions and acts of illicit kinds
Verdant meadows bejeweled with strings of dews
Tornado trembles the naked trees
The hooting owls an omen bring.
The water snakes leave behind their lace skins
A wealth of childrenfolks' imagining
The indelible ink of my
Motherland tattoes my physche
The whistling grass echoes
My motherland:
For me, she calls.
Motherland!
I won't leave you again to ruin,
The pagearity of my soul shall grace you.
Once I left you moulded black,
Now I won't leave you again to rot.
Let my words germinate in your palms,
In vain vanities have I made you vain,
Graceful paths have I crafted for you.
I won't leave you again to rust in vain.
Motherland, I remember your greener pasture.
If there is a fooled love in abyss,
Mine is a divinelove packaged in purity.
I remembered you Good mama, decorated with love,
Cultured in a embeamed embryo of sweetness;
Mechanised pretty star of paradised earth.
If I get locked away in the past,
Your bosom shall I look unto.
Outset of the puzzle of life, you made me.
Motherland, mother hope, mother trust,
Fertiled and honeyed gracefully beyond others.
Motivated at the peak of the wind,
Trees waving in an inspirational move,
Clapping grasses worshipping and praising
A love sweetened flowing in one channel.
Motherland, of a truth you are great and pure.
Here I was born and groomed,
I grew around these tables of peace
Sorrounded by spirited brothers and sisters.
I grew around these watered hope,
I won't leave you again, motherland.
Strike the masses, with hopes in prose
To earn their trust, and thumbs in folds
Kneel to the masses, to be put to council
Chosen by the masses, to be their council
Steal the masses’ offering, when put in council
To flee their own, only from hassle
To thee the council of the motherland
Why do you cause pain bitter than labour
Poverty strikes masses like thunder
Indigenes molested like prisoners
Strangled by the strings of hunger
Whiles awaiting your promise to better the land
To the mighty above, they are left to pray
To sustain them without a pay
For the day the fire shall turn red
The evergreen’s scalp shall turn bald
The Mother-Land Cries.
The land bleeds.
From treasured seeds.
No Diamond grills,
from cut off limbs.
The poor-less fears.
''Blood, Sweat an Tears.''
The Hunger of pain,
screaming in vein.
With continued cries,
an lullaby's.
Of stories told,
but never unfold.
In a desperate speed,
of souls in need.
The Sun, has drowned,
in this part of town.
And the moon is hidden,
more than a mission,
on television.
The real world speaks,
In harmony,
with sympathy.
In sync,
with missing links.
with no one left,
confining itself.
In a matter of life an death.
A shepard's, shattered dream,
washing away, in the streams.
No cattle to feed.
Crippling the land.
Of silent sand.
A cry for help.
Too well kept.
Rendered thoughts,
an vivid souls,
traveling the distance,
of unfinished goals.
The beated Drum,
when no one comes.
The Mother-Land Cries,
there no denying...
The tears,
I hear,
In my ears.
Though out the night.
A Non-Stop flight.
Drifting through the sky,
When the whole world cry.
Piercing the goals,
Of heart an souls.
Still...
Yet, Un-Cut,
an bold.
By: Shi Ricks
@ copyright.
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