This is a dramatically poem on the Gujrat riot...>
Once while sleeping I saw a dream,
Love is pretty, sweet and kind,
Like a beautiful hillside morn,
Blowing breeze and fragrance bind,
Then it is in one's heart born.
On the summit the sun was shining,
And whosoever dared to get outside,
The sun burnt one and fainted by scorching,
And his impact stretched to the world wide,
Oh, how sever the heart's pain,
In the love, did what I gain,
Writhing my heart and eyes rain,
I forget her, but in my dreams remain.
Tears are hidden behind smile,
Among the thorns a laughing rose,