An uncle too aged, who did always ramble
Had only praises for his own king, the great king
For the wonder crop cassava that he did bring
To his once sovereign state, Travancore erstwhile
Rambled he, let's salute the maharaja
Ayilyam thirunal, the great visionary
And his bro Visakham thirunal, exemplarary
The great souls, for cassava still kills our hunger
And that, much rich starch and the often seasonal
Catch of fish, mostly the sardines from Chakara
Were what eased the famine of our peninsula
When it befell, a cruel disaster national
Of epidemic cholera in colonies
O, yes many a time still the sardines stale killed
And like dead sardine fishes, the poor lay squashed
Sordidly filthy, icy cold and eyes listless
So on rambling, he then sighing deep, very deep
Who had seen ups and downs in life, many many
Never ever to wake up, just laid down to sleep
Nay to see famine nor epidemic any!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem