Our bus waded 
The flood-criss-crossed road, 
For several hours 
In sheer disgust of a failed polity. 
O In complete boredom! 
Choked by billows of tears, 
I ponder over our avaricious demagogs
Who have cast upon the people, 
A spell of starvation malady, 
Though they receive incredulous panegyrics
From the cradle to the vault.
But suddenly, 
My poor-bemoaning soul was
Daubed by fluid of serenity.
Borne out of derision, I mumbled, 
'What's the hurly-burly about? 
I should chortle at these pseudo-janitors, 
Who are girdled by obfuscation, 
For now they've fissured
Our economic monolith
(the boon of our political sinew) , 
Nudging it into arbor 
Fenced by pandemonium, 
While wreathing it with emblem of disgrace'                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    