Life
A
plant sprouts
With
its tender little shoots
And
knows not
From
where it came
And
will take which of the routes.
Growing
in its ignorance,
It
slowly turns out to be crazy,
Is puffed
up with pride,
Teasing
others,
Kidding
weathers,
Singing
songs,
Blind
to every right and wrong.
Oh,
what has happened to it?
Now
anyone else
It
has nothing to do with!
Absolutely
confined,
Giving
friends a cold look,
Deep
in melancholy
Like
a closed book.
Eyes
half opened, oppressed, depressed
For
love and caresses he is pressed.
My
God,
It
now looks as pale as a ghost!
Now
about to complete its journey
Like
a vehicle
Driven
by a man;
Nay,
by the Almighty
He has
been carried in the time-van.
Comments
Post a Comment