An infant craves for strokes.
A child craves for attention.
An adolescent craves for recognition.
An adult craves for identity.
An old one craves for gratitude.
A dead one craves for visiting as ghost.
Craving is the soul’s propeller.
11.09.05
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very true sir, , ..without craving there is no life