Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Roar my bull




By Atok Dan

Roar my bull,
Roar Maker-thiangdit
 Roar again in the pasture with lions
The pitch of your voice solaces the bereaved
The source of the sleepless nights for villagers,
Cry the arsenal that liberates us of fear
Bellow for the needy kids to rejoice,
The drum of harvest
Thunder in autumn rains
Roar Maker-thiangdit
Roar again, roar my bull

Roar betrayer of night witches
In the dead of a lonely night
Whenever I hear your voice,
It’s time to wobble about with your peg but verve
Truly can you be called a piano that fascinates passersby?

Roar my pride, roar bull,
Your voice frightens owl of the night
The evils that the village fear
When I yank you for water,
I gird for danger with my spear
My lung boils in heat of the sun
For none has ever existed
The roaring of a thunderstorm,
In autumn rains
Roar again, roar Maker-agany
The exhilarator of village girls,
The entertainer of deaf

Roar my bull, roar Maker-agany
The monitor lizard,
Your voice deprives birds in the nests
You wake them in the middle of dead nights
The watch keeper of our village
The pride that my generation envies,
Roar with elephants Maker-thiangdit
Roar king of crawling reptiles
On the river bank,
Roar tower of pride

Roar king of crawling reptiles
Comparing the natural patch on your back,
It is the strip of earthly Milky Way
A back dotted with poor artistic design,
It is you Maker-thiangdit,
It is you my bull
In pursuit of lucrative pasture,
We invade foreign toch with our spears,
To let you graze in abundance
Roar my bull

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