Robbers And Dacoits

Who calls you a dacoit, friend, Who calls you a robber? All around dacoits reign today, And thieves prosper. Who is judging the robbers and the dacoits? Who is the lord of justice? Ask him, friend, who is not a dacoit today, Who is not a robber chief. My lord, raise your mace of justice and punish Those wealthy and the rich who thrived Robbing the humble poor and the deprive. Today the greater the robber, the bigger the thief and the cleverer the cheat The more honourable, the more distinguished and the more dignified his seat In the assembly of nations. All around Bricks red with the blood of the subjects Go to raise the king's palaces And the factories of the gangster-rich flourish Rendering thousands homeless. The cunning devils start mills Where men are ground to pieces, Where from hungry millions emerge, Sucked dry like sugarcane, Bereft of their juices. Squeezing out the life blood of millions of men The mill owners amass vast wealth in their hidden den. The money lenders grow rich Robbing the helpless, And the Zamindars on joy rides go Rendering the weak homeless. The greedy merchants in this earth Have built a house of prostitution of wealth There the vice Saki dances and drinks The gold demon's health. Losing health, food, life, hope, language and all Bankrupt man is heading to a terrible fall. There is no way of escape The gold-hungry monsters have dug Deep invincible moats all around, The world today is a prison sound With cruel gangsters working as sentinel. Thieves are friends here Cheats are comrades dear. Who calls you a dacoit, dear friend? Who calls you a robber? You may have stolen money or goods, But you have not dug a dagger In some one's tender-heart. You may be thieves all right But not inhuman like the so-called great You can turn Valmikis yet When true men you meet You who are the Ratnakars. [Original: Chor-Dakaat; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]