Kings of the wilds since ancient times,
Gentle giants are we
Soon extinct we will be
And us no more you’ll see.
From our habitat you forced us out
Driving us insane;
Within hours you destroyed the only home we know,
Forests that took years to grow
So many of us and our friends,
Mothers and babies, suffered untold agony.
And when we were hungry and thirsty, with no food
And water, to our home we came back;
Then you sprayed us with lead,
We bled to death.
Man, how cruel can you get?
This is our land, our home –
You have no right to take it away;
We need a place to live in;
On you we depend to be a caring friend,
But you have become an enemy we dread,
You who feeds us polythene and lead.
We are your pride and heritage
The Buddha’s relics on our backs we bear,
And your Kings from age to age
For our precious tusks to feed your greed
You butcher us without a care;
And for your vanity on your hands to wear
You cut off our tails for their hair.
We feel pain like you, O Man –
We are living beings, don't you understand?
To Mother Earth we do belong.
Have compassion, Man
Give us back our precious land
Manique Yatawara Bahar,