Listen to the lament from deep fathom of my heart.
As you are the sharp shooters of archers,
There is neither mistake nor slip in your arts.
The nightingale of hope,
From grief garden of primrose,
Chanting sorrowful prose,
Lamenting on glorious past of rose.
When the essences of rose wrenched,
The Songsters leave the branches,
But the faithful nightingale,
Keep singing and hail.
Let us complain the bitterness of our pain,
Allow us to shed tears on our wails.
Heart becomes drought land, begging for rain.
Sadness occupied our mind that becomes deserted terrain.
Bloods bleeding like stream from every vein.
The glory of our past,
Dissolved and shattered.
Rising sun from the horizon scattered into dark.
The way of your love becomes crime for the pervert.
We were vanished by our efforts
The slavery on the earth,
But we are enslaved by yours infidel slaves.
Galloping our horses straight into death,
In the name of your Highness.
Carried you message from East to West.
You look so generous in our past,
What make you now to treat as strangers on us…?
Guided others the ways of your love,
But fall down our rank from the heaven to earth.
Our ancestors were earned and proved heroic deeds
But we left broken nation for our generation indeed.
They were afraid of you and followed your orders.
But we are afraid of death and follow our desires.
The stories of our past,
Sweet taste to our heart,
But our heart itself dark,
Read it only by ignorant heart.
O protector of all and our beloved,
You left us at the midst of Ocean,
Or we leave you at the corner of our Nation.
Our homeland is not a suitcase and we are not travelers.
Our sleeps possess not calmness and our foods are not fear.
Our children are not orphans and we are not street dwellers.
Our destiny is not empty and we cannot be losers.
We are not like as those helpless flowers,
which keep patience and suffer all the crimes from fliers.
Thousands of mothers are mourning for their dears.
Helpless youths are at the hand of merciless oppressors.
Promised for paradise but burning like hell on the earth.
Hide the face of disgrace losers under the piece of tatters.
The palaces of tyrant dictators are shinning on your Earth.
The righteous are suffering and struggling so hard.
Oh! All knowing why don’t you listen those little creatures,
Crying for suckle but punish to death by spears.
We leave ourselves the throne,
And seek the destruction of our own.
Slumber of sweet dream wandering in fantasy.
Tempted by the fake beauty finds nowhere dignity.
Once our name and fame,
Conquered to all the nations and the heathens,
Praised by the dwellers of heaven.
Mount Tur and fountain of Zam Zam exist;
But Moses and Ishmael are no more.
The faith and the love exist;
But the true believers and the faithful lovers are no more.
Proclamations and shrines are everywhere, than before,
The purity of heart and sincerity are no more.
Your followers and believers are plenty more than before.
The dignity of those days and sovereignty of our nations are no more.
Oh! The best planner, why such hard test on the righteous,
Don’t you have trust on the poor virtuous?
If this is the duty to be done grant us the unity as reward,
Recognize each others as brothers among your followers.
Guide us towards the chosen leader and give us the sight of clear.
Lit the light in our heart, bless with the purity of our beloved.
Let us eliminate the selfish desires and grant us sincerity inward.
To prove our commitment serving my neck to the merciless sword,
Keeping highest trust in your perfect words.
I testify you that I keep not silent as a dumb devil.
Bless our hands to perish those evils.
BY
KYAW WIN(BMA-UK)