Our ancestors were not shepherds,
They knew neither plow nor potter’s wheel,
They tracked no beast through the forest trails,
Nor gathered roots where the meadows feel.
They were gods from the very beginning,
In vimanas through star dust they soared,
Faster than light, obedient to thought,
In distant constellations, new paths they explored.
Neither thunder nor lightning did they fear,
Before the fierce elements, they did not bow.
Oh, a foolish jest—a demonic design,
That monkeys are called our ancestors now!
They sought to humble our spirit for ages,
But our ancestors are immortal, eternal gods!
They dared to condense both space and time,
Folding them like hide in celestial abodes.
To kindle a star like a torch in an instant—
For them, it was simple and common of old.
Not in decrepit huts did they seek their fortune,
Nor dwelt they in caves, cramped and cold.
In golden cities that soared through the heavens,
In celestial halls, shining with fame,
They embodied greatness in all of their deeds,
Ruling a cosmic and mighty domain.
By will alone, they fashioned millions of worlds,
Creating the fate for nations to be,
Creators of cultures, guarding their laws
In the boundless expanses of the heavenly sea.
So great were the gods of the ages of old—
Our forebears, whose spirit is firm and upright.
Let us walk the paths of their lives with honor,
Let us be worthy!
Worthy!
Worthy!
