He is abashed with his appearance,
Bearing flank disarray,
He enfolds himself odd one to adjust,
With all scenes vary,
Life is no longer the same,
He looks perplexed on every state.
Evoking the past smooth life,
He feels a delight,
But, sadden to be part of today’s world,
He feels a touching agony.
He abhors and disgraces all acts,
Abject nature with all abjure feel,
Scorching good life,
He proclaims a dismal life.
He encircles with feel of abomination.
And to abort abound negative style,
But no where, he straddles across old back beautiful life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem