The island of the rising sun
The land were work is fun
With tireless proletarians
And boundless trailblazers
Land where days and hours clock first
Where it is already tomorrow when our sun sets
At the edge of the world
With a new age for the world
They break paths for us to maintain
The earth cracks but they build again
Lights never dim in Nihon
Nihon always lives on
Where thousands and lakhs of proletarian are
wandering at the streets for alms of food;
They have no shelters of their own and lives on the roads;
How could such a country
could think to won the space
Mars and moon!
Here, I can hear the cry of these people in all direction
they are so poor and neglected and deprived one
the country is doing none but
spending a lot, to bear the load of
space organization.
What an amazing country it is! ;
The division of caste and creed are huge here
they are fighting each other.
Tears are flowing like flood
in that war of blood.
And the proletarians are shouting in pain
for food a grain.
Evils are dominating the society
depression engulfs the equality;
and there are no peace and
tranquility.
No one wants to ride the moon
they want to have the food.
If you can give an alms of it
and a little roof to live
upon their head.
If you can, give them a little clothing
for you which is old and
ruined.
I want to burn the dawn,
Set the creeping mist ablaze,
Scorch the languid clouds.
Let the evil-headed crows,
Bear witness
Too the fire,
Melting this sanity.
I'm in to deep!!
The laughing form
Of a cartoon moon.
The clichéd bird song
With their dutiful chorus.
I'm in to deep to let go!!!!
Eager proletarians
With sad eyes.
Their hearts
A roaring inferno,
Stare vacantly
At a flashing red light.
They can't see me;
I'm in to deep,
Just a light shadow
Pouring petrol
Upon the stubborn dew.