Lal Ded Vakh
Ami pana so'dras nAvi ches lamAn
Kati bozi Day myon meyti diyi tAr
Ameyn tAkeyn poniy zan shemAn
Zuv chum bramAn gara gatshaha.
With a rope of loose-spun thread am I towing
my boat upon the sea.
Would that God heard my prayer
and brought me safe across!
Like water in cups of unbaked clay
I run to waste.
Would God I were to reach my home
That reminds me
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, MY NATIVE LAND!
(Sir Walter Scott 1771-1832)
Contributor - Didi