Jasmine, Jasmine,
You are like a cute baby,
The loving baby of a sweet smile,
Everyone likes to kiss you,
Everyone likes to hold you,
For mere a day or two,
When you are in bud form,
When you have a sweet smell,
But, when your shelf life is over,
You will trash into the waste bin,
Within a day or two,
Do you feel? , Do you hurt?
Do you feel? , Do you hurt?
Even if, you feel like a pity one,
We don't think about that,
As we do not have time to spend,
It's a custom,
It's a practice to put in waster bin,
Even with a number of rotten eggs,
Within a short time,
When your sweet smell is over,
We follow the custom,
Must we ask for forgiveness? -,
must we ask for mercy? -
From God for the rude style,
We have such a rude style,
Rude style in every area,
It's a permitted looting,
Like taxing the giver in the greatest,
No one can't control the same.
It's your fate, a merciless fate,
A logic less logic of nature.
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06-12-2018,12.53 PM, Kadammanitta,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem