Canorous sounds tingles not my ears
The angus-eyed demon of poverty watches from afar
Life has been degrading for me for years
For which have made my home the native bar
My destiny does not change even in my torrent tears
It seems that God has from the sky deleted my star
And wealth has aborted me in the pool of poverty
No one can best describe my state
Human words does it but rarely
The only answer is 'that's my fate'
Life can be accepted as it is
Or can be created by the rusted bolts and nuts we now have
We can complain we are not like that or this
Better, we can dream of good dream in whole not halve
Our laziness and excuses has helped us miss
The greater life we in our power could calve
My complain above can by me fix
If I delight not in whines but willing to fly like the dove
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
liked this write...acceptance of the plight and going..is what called life....
Thank you Sarkar