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.
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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,
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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.
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Tears are hidden behind smile,
Among the thorns a laughing rose,
...