Grandmother and Infant Grandchild

With the howl of the Cyclone wind,
Screams of dying parents,
Trying to save a whimpering infant,
Banished with the wave,
Drifted into the open sea.

With the twist of fate,
Or with a grace of fairy angel,
The grandmother and the infant grandchild,
Were saved, left with no family,
Took shelter at the monastery.

Infant child cried with hunger,
Grandmother with sadness and anger,
Not letting this old lady died instead,
Not being able to replace Mother’s milk,
Lost in this confused web.

The wind had died down.

The water had receded.
Vanished family and home,
The grandmother and the infant child
With no help and Junta left them alone.

This story was too familiar,
Nargis had left us too much to bear.
Burma with affectionate young and old,
Devote and donate were never being told.
Let’s get rid off this Junta as our foes.

Shwe Ngya Maung