Bodh Hawey Tungabhadra-r Tiir-ey (Seems Like By the Shores of Tungabhadra)

By the river Tungabhadra the sun is going down
By the river Tungabhadra our anchors do not frown
By the river Tungabhadra our hearts are slightly sad
By the river Tungabhadra crimson grips us mad

By the river Tungabhadra there are clouds in her hair
By the river Tungabhadra my shadow’s a soothsayer
Grasses see their own shadows on pitchers made of bronze
By the river Tungabhadra crimson grips our bones

By the river Tungabhadra ghosts of children dead
By the river Tungabhadra real maps that bled
By the river Tungabhadra guts gut in hellholes
They are very angry and may anger blaze all souls

By the river Tungabhadra shades of greenlove soft
At times when we bust out they do hold us high aloft
By the river Tungabhadra five thousand stars are singing
The roots will all have wings out there, the bells of time are ringing.