The Man is lying naked. This filthy pavement is his abode. The Man is emaciated and famishing. And he never begs for alms, Proud and conceited. The road is busier than ever. No one takes interest in him. No one catches a glimpse at him. And a few feign not having seen him at all.
The time fleets on, the cars move on, The Man is lying naked.
At the first blush, far from being a beggar Is the Man. He is well-complexioned with big glamorous eyes. His face is sleek and his hair shines against The lustrous sunbeams. His eyes are gleeful, but mournful is his heart. Penniless though, his craving for gold is sheer. He ogles at the gold brought by the people around. But he never begs for alms, Proud and conceited. Then someone nears him and asks who he is. After much vacillation, he dismisses his taciturnity. βMankind is my nameβ, he replies.
The time fleets on, the cars move on, The Man is lying naked.