Your rivers are flowing in the hills,
Your dates in the pages of history
And you in the dirty slums.
I ask you – when do the dreams of the sickles in the fields be fulfilled? 
When the centuries of hunger of the millions be appeased.
All the flags are flying in the sun only for the workers
All the pens are drinking bottles of ink only to express your dreams
In the name of October Revolution only 
All the voices are taking oath
But when do your factories become our pillars of triumph
When will the lotuses blossom in the rugged palms of the workers?
How many theories reined under this sky /
and washed the entire earth becoming great deluges- 
how many swords of how many religions clashed in this old earth 
but the hammers which are ornaments of the human muscles, when do they beat the skies of the Bourgeoisie countries in pieces 
and when do they make the sky rain storms of stars-
we are all people , we are all dreams of this country
The complete will of this country is our voice only-
Innumerable days we washed our earth with our tears 
and gave the power writing with our blood.
That very power has become death rope around our neck
When does this atrocious day set-
I am asking- when does the great day come when our self respect now being crushed under the iron heels of Govt.Officers and power politics will take revenge.
When do rise again like a great orb of sun with all its glorious rays from the sea-

                                                                           -Seshendra Sharma

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