Hands of Flowers (Poem) by Tangellapalli Kanakachari

--- After the forests were destroyed... after they were burnt down... they are sprouting here in the city.. The gardeners who are protecting and nurturing the migrating spring are ready here. The heavily yielding crop brings a new festival, so tie green festoons to the doorways and play auspicious instruments. Now even the flowers in hand are becoming fiery flowers and showering questions. New politics for the new generation are now inevitable. The generation keeps raising its banner. The generation keeps cracking open the door to change. Do you hear the roar of the surging waves? Flowing through the alleys of freedom, pushing past prisons, let us open our hearts and welcome it. Let us wipe away the collapsing corruption and come sprinkle colors before the doorway of another world. ---