Toil Propels. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

Food, clothing, knowledge, pleasure
entail the toils of many
in addition to our own labour.
Even a new born baby,
for its survival, has to
suck the breast of mother.

Neither foods enter into
the mouth of a sleeping lion
nor the fruits falling from the tree
get into it even if the lion
remains awake under the tree
with its mouth wide open.

The ants, bees and
all in the animal world,
by dint of sincere
and persistent labour,
do fill their tummies with food materials under all conditions.
Toil, therefore, is the rule and
prerequisite along with strong
determination to achieve
blue ribbons and be paragons.