Kitthe Gaiyyan​

Where is it, where has it gone, O mother,
My share of vacation?

O mother, my heart longs to play with snowballs
On high mountains,
But O what I have got is
Burning, flaming prisons of brick kilns.
Where is my vacation

O mother, my heart longs to fly like birds
And chirp perched on the parapet,
How can I fly? My feet are chained to labour
How, O how, can I unchain myself?
Where is my vacation

The moonlight is so sweet, so very cool!
I see it and in a corner I weep,
In the glimmer of stars,
I make roads, roll bidis in silence.
Where is my vacation

O mother, my heart longs for vacation
When I shall sleep all day, not even open the door.
My days and nights are spent breaking stones
On heaps of grit I dozily fall.
Where is my vacation

O mother, my heart longs to dance bhangra
And sing verses of giddha,
My feet get tired, begging in streets,
How do I dance, where do I sing?
Where is my vacation

Tell me O mother, you know my heart –
What more should I tell you?
Those who have taken away my vacation
From them will I snatch it back.
Then only, O mother, will I have a vacation –
My share of a vacation.

~ Translation: Suresh Desai