The commons often crave the hoary,
Those in stars as life ordinary,
The choice is very own,
Room it has none to groan,
O dither, nor yet choose to worry,
Should ye choose, warm the chair,
Keep it for someone spare,
No, ye can't now choose to be sorry.
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After becoming country's Prime Minister, it's not fair to miss one's freedom and carefree life in the open. Else, ye want to eat the apple and have it too. Yet, indications were contrary and hence this ditty. And it so happened, throughout his tenure of two terms this man gave the impression of being in two minds.
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Happenings | 01.06.04 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aniruddha, such a well penned poem...............
Thank you Bernard, politics is lot of pretensions by and large though we cannot generalise.