I see a dreadful plague
Spreading its pestilence here.
They call it development.
They call it refinement.
I see fair-skinned aliens
Coming here from far and wide.
Their deeds are foul.
Their actions unacceptable.
it is depressing to see the outcome
Of what sadly happens to us
When we follow them
Saying it's quite all right.
Day becomes night:
Our youth is misled.
As without looking back even once
They make themselves go astray.
Even though the Straight Path lies ahead
And the good is distinguished from the bad.
The good is now transformed.
it has become the way of the alien.
The so-called elixir of thought enhancement
Seems to have made its debut.
The dulling stupor of liquor
ls fondly welcomed too often.
Just because they have a day
For the celebration of falsehood.
isn't it perfectly shocking
That we have to mark the same?
We now eat off the same plate;
We share the same tastes.
I see it happening last now;
We are evolving into them.
Family bonds are easily broken.
Goodwill towards neighbours is crushed underfoot
It is disheartening tor me to see
That selfishness rules supreme.
If we dismiss these happenings
As just a bad dream or hallucination.
I am sure that the inevitable end
Is cultural suicide of the nation.
If the true Maldivian milieu
Is stripped oi the Maldivian Way of Life,
I see a grim spectre of darkness
Looming over the horizon.
Adam Abdurrahman (20th century) Maldives
Source: Gestures: An Anthology of South Asian Poetry edited by K. Satchidānandan (1996), Sahitya Akademi, New Delhi, pp. 212-213