I know not from where I come,

I know not  where I go.

But I like the muddy waters

And the filth where I grow.

A tiny egg it breaks up,

And a wriggler I become,

When I fly and flap my wings,

To you it’s just a hum.

When I suck your salty blood,

Oh, it feels so good!

What can I really do,

If this is my only food?

It’s true I spread some germs

And also some disease,

But that isn’t all my fault,

Note this, if you please.

If news is bad, just think, you

Should the messenger  be dead?

Shouldn’t you exterminate

Plasmodium instead?

Didn’t God say to you

Thou shalt not kill?

Yet you’re always this

You kill our larvae still!

Or is it that other rule

You’re following through?

Do unto others

Before they do unto you.

There are on any beach

Less grains of tiny sands,

Than numbers of my species

Who’ve died from human hands.

We are now convinced:

That  Man’s purpose here below

Is to kill all mosquitoes

By means fast and slow.

February 18, 2011

Published by:

Varadaraja V. Raman

Physicist, philosopher, explorer of ideas, bridge-builder, devotee of Modern Science and Enlightenment, respecter of whatever is good and noble in religious traditions as well as in secular humanism,versifier and humorist, public speaker, dreamer of inter-cultural,international,inter-religious peace.

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