Unpleasant Poem by Kishore Kumar Das

The sweeper carrying the wheel-barrow
suddenly stopped:
a dead dog at the road side
without any hesitation
he spread a plastic cover on it
and lifted it to the wheel-barrow
Myself, just following
a totally unpleasant job
meticulously executed;
I was speechless
are our jobs worse than the above?
whether physical or mental tasks
the exemplary spirit of work
shown by the sweeper
carved in gold letters in my mind
what's unpleasant in this world?
only we people search for pleasant aspects....
many a time our jobs appear to be unpleasant
but work is sacred, beautiful
work is the real worship
let us love our work.