The turbid twin Rivers sob in streams
In rows, misty waters flow where gorges are dim.
What is this place where foggy dews on broken skulls teem?
From bombs and grenades the frontier town
Still lie in ruin since the legendary earthshaking revolution.
I still remember General Kalasinga’s jungle battle gown
So handsome with dread lock tumbling down his shoulder blade at every motion.
With gun in hand and a swords loftily spread,
How marvelously perfect put he the foe’s devices to shame!
In years gone by, Kalasinga, at our arm’s head,
Won early admiration among his peers, war of liberation when was at its bitter prime;
Few nationalists can match up to his immortal fame.
A role model for all patriotic ages, years on, patriots still draw inspiration from his awed name.


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