This poem by Dr Harendera Kumar Singh is published with due permission and it basically shows the vulnerable condition of poor and small farmers of India, the land of agriculture. Usually these small farmers end up committing suicide if the crops fail them and they are unable to pay the loans they have taken from the grey market.

A literal translation of this is not possible but an approximate translation is as follows.

If you want to see a morgue, come and see my humble field

Coz it is a like a dead arid land, gives no return or crop yield

The patwaris have become rich by taking our thumb impression

We just watch our poverty and loan grow, session after session

The aid of the government is just like sprinkling wounds with salt

The leaders just fly over us in choppers, never do they stop or halt

Our small homes are taken forcibly when we cannot repay our loan

We cannot do anything against nature or landlords, can just only moan

If you want to see the stark reality, come out of India, the great nation

Come and visit the real Hindustan, where we live hopeless in frustration

We just hope some day the fate of the poor farmers will also change

We also come in the government radar, we fall in their visible range

Till then we are forced to live without any provisions in just one hope

That the country will awaken to our condition, before we entirely elope

That optimism is the strength which keeps us alive with ordeals all around

That power we derive from our faith, it makes a shield for me to surround