The great pot was in front of me,
I poured all my wealth into it,
In spite of it, it remained unsaturated at the end,
I remained confused for a while;
Then I scrutinized the pot minutely
And gently asked the reason of it,
Immediately I felt someone answered me from inside the important pot,
"That's why I am so mysterious."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
money grows in banks and as mangoes on trees in pots we put ablution ARRRRRRRRR please