The morning rose,
dark in red as it shows,
wet with the dew,
not bloomed fully too,
is this what I call beauty? No!
Half risen sun,
with a hue of crimson,
lighting up the horizon,
For a new day to go on.
is this what I call beauty? No!
Well planned city,
Buildings tall till infinity,
Nicely laid off roads,
From all nodes to nodes.
Is this what I call beauty? No!
Cute little kitten,
that finds us to threaten,
Brownish white puppy
and the tinest guppy.
Is this what I call beauty? No!
Keenly chiseled sculpture
to precisely depict a culture.
carefully contrived miniature,
to display a mega structure.
Is this what I call beauty? No!
So what is beauty i shall reveal,
its one that gives a happy appeal.
It makes your other thoughts to cease
and takes your mind to absolute peace,
I call that beautiful with total zeal!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem