Hey you, who reside in horizons fleeing from my steps! How could I pluck out and gather winds from your lofty trees? Each time I climb mountains, I find an inscription registering a blow of your old perfume and a
Gladioli stand in a tantric daze under siege of prism. The colors fall dangling, unsettling silent memories. I thought I was nervous while playing a smell game of wild guns, when tanks were rolling out on streets. A final farewell
Your absence greets me every morning. In the beginning, so noisy, even wild, Thrusting its claws into my plexus, Leaving deep furrows oozing your memory, Bleeding questions and perplexities- Oh, how I hated that spectrum Which darkened my glaring world!
Messengers of God came To reform men All toiled hard to spread goodness and upbraid vices Generally they suffered and were agonized Noble minds believed and weak minds not So happened with the wit of every learned or enlightened person