This world belongs to you,
To do the spring clean,
The dirt is everywhere,
Need to be simply washed,
And wiped, the sensual animals,
Are called as the pests,
Their spill is contagious,
Has to be scrubbed,
Using the moral detergents,
We are tired of doing,
All these work on daily basis,
What is there to look forward,
When the dirty world is left as it is,
The bodies of human ache,
The souls tremble in fear,
Why the laws of cleanliness are drafted?
Whose assumption is this what clean really means?
Human are weak and can’t be stable for hundred years,
Who wants us to suffer by obeying in servitude?
Happiness is kept in the bottles and then in capsules,
Why can’t they derive the happiness through their acts,
They are forced to forget all woes to be happy for a moment,
Once they can’t remember themselves,
The rules are disobeyed to be human again,
As they speak the truth in hallucination,
the conscious mind good at manipulation,
the subconscious mind good at revelation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Why can’t they derive the happiness through their acts? Great question needing action immediately. I liked this poem.