O newborn child of increasing fairness
Do lay thy bossom as punitive veil,
It must be affair, but in archaic sense,
Who deem in transiency, but in fail
Must die a truant at half of a weigh;
Care wherefore thou art little, - my steadfast lore!
Green follows dryness, not e'er-lasting green
Pit-coal not in itself, but weather; thence,
Greenery as Lakshmi-diamond, Narayan
Be born, to deploy Earth, or assure more.
Those stroll around thy legacy, are meek
And I must prefer them, until a fire
Of incantation solveth o'er the wrench
I must be poor, day-long who desire,
But not to be in shire of empty speak.
COPYRIGHT@ RESERVED BY PIJUSH BISWAS
11/20/2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem