We regret for not being kind to the animals
when they were abundant and flourishing in spectacular wonder,
says the businessman.
We miss the age-old trees and magnificent nature
when we drowned them in our dams and culture,
says the developer.
We had to bring back plants when we paved the city with concrete,
make highways and byways, build bridges and streets,
says the engineer.
We introduce natural ambiance for sounds and sights
and plaster buildings with fixtures and lights,
says the architect.
What am I? Just someone who records down thoughts and imagination
that means nothing really, that don't bring in any supplementation,
says I, the writer.
Who are they? Who paints the beauty of the universe. Who shoots pictures of the world.
Who sings the truth of existence. Who fights the freedom of expression.
Says them who are the underdogs of the government.
The day when the roots of the flora will penetrate,
the day when the breath of the fauna shall dictate,
the day when all go to waste in the company of disgrace,
shall be the day when regimes are nothing but a forgotten trace.