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.