To my husband
Cycles, and cycles, and cycles
Early in the morning.
It’s time the Bhilai’s people
To the plant are going.
They smile, they sing, they hooray,
The plant is their dearest baby
They wish it to be the strongest
And the leading in the country, may be
They know, the plant’s people treasure.
They need it for life and freedom.
And they spend no expense
Here, in Bhilai’s kingdom.
They do it for the county’s glory,
For smiles, for songs, for yearnings.
That is why there are so many cycles
In the mornings.