When children, like the drunken servants of a thlen-rearing family, were bleeding dry the present
I have seen the future;
When children were drooling over the power-stone I stood rooted in my forefather’s land.
I do not recognize the colours of your world,
They blind me;
I will not dance to the tinkling music of your coins,
It is a screech to my ears.
I am the orchid in the forest of my childhood,
I am the waterfall on the precipice of my youth,
I am the fruit tree in the garden of my children,
I am the tigress of the winter of my life,
I am the lineage-shield of my descendants.
I am the tigress, I am the eagle, I am the orchid,
I am the free land of my forefathers;
I am Spelity Lyngdoh Langrin.
Featured image by Tarun Bhartiya