Lives the tale of the Orangs, beneath the cosmos.
With Kurukh tongues, they speak to the land,
The skies listen, and the winds understand.
From Chotanagpur’s ancient rise,
Under endless, starry skies,
Guardians of soil, of tree, of grain,
Their roots hold fast through time and pain.
Farmers and Worriors, fierce and bold,
Our ancestors' dandi in stories told.
Through drumbeats so deep,
through Nalna and dandi,
To the rhythm of the mandar and nagra,
we have danced all along.
Heroes rise in every fight,
With spirits strong and hearts of light.
Jatra Bhagat, with courage known,
Led his people, and broke chains of stone.
For land and life, for truth and youth,
He kindled the flame of the Orang's root.
Far from home, their journey led,
To Assam’s fields where labor spread.
Yet in their hearts, they carried whole,
The customs, stories, and strength of soul.
In every land, the Orang grow,
Their spirit wild like rivers flow.
They plant the seeds of peace and might,
Led by their ancestors' guiding light.
Their festivals bloom in vibrant hues,
Karma and Sarhul in joy renew.
The earth, their mother, the sky, their kin,
In every leaf, their souls begin.
Though lands may shift and borders change,
The Orang spirit stays untamed.
Kurukh still whispers in the breeze,
In the trees’ sway, and the songs of seas.
Through trials long, their path unfolds,
A tale of strength forever told.
The Orang stand, unyielding still,
With hearts of fire, with timeless will.
~Tersina Maria Toppo
