Composed By—Pijush Kanti Deb
Let’s feel, the magic of diplomatic eloquence-
exhibited during our action and reaction
as the traditional roaring- verbal or of arms,
chased to tarnish retaliation,
warned against unfavorable unity
and marched to trample the raising heads,
but amazingly all additions were equal to zero.
Fire, nevertheless, was alive
lying under the blanket of ashes.
compelled a set of intellectuals and updated brains
to combine together
dumping the arms,
and involve in hours of whispering
and counter – whispering
and at last agreed to produce the ‘’Sweet Knife’’ –
polished by eloquence and sharpened
by all the goodness of gifts, rewards and awards.
Look, with in a moment, all toddling steps
join in a procession on the straight street
leading to the clutches of the diplomatic hands,
getting cut their throats of old hatred
with neither a wail, nor a repentance in
surrendering their future to the eloquent present.