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Normally, I don’t notice it
However, every New Year
Amongst the fireworks’ blaze
As crowds gawp with wide eyed awe
I see the blind London Eye deep in shame

It should have been a Buddha’s eye
To see
The many living skeletons
Dragging themselves to death
From Burundi to Bangladesh

It should have been an eye of Shiva
To see
The mute deaf demons
As they harvest human hearts
From the dry lands of Africa
To the mountains of Asia

It should have been an eye but one that sees
But how could wise Londoners
Build a colossal blind eye
In the heart of this great city
And mock at her every year
By forcing brightness into blindness?

Translation, by author himself | 01 January 2006, London
Mishra plans to translate more of his poems after he retires from politics. His Nepali poems have been compiled in ‘Rabindra Mishraka Kabita’. Please go to the BOOKS section to find out more about his poetry book and where to purchase it.

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