Those!
Who weep in the darkness of night
and struggle to achieve goodness
They smile in the day light in return
And Those!
Who smile and enjoy in the darkness of night
without struggling for the future
They weep in the day light
It’s the return of their deed

Love is to life
Hate is to death
So
I have to choose one of two
It's all about me
It's all over me

You owe to play with sun
O’ my heart!
But it burns everything
There’s no effect of tear or dew
Me or you!

Poet says to passerby, "How are you?"
Passerby replies, "Fine"
Poet says to passerby, "What do you do?"
Passerby replies, "I am lord of this area"
                             "Would you like to offer me a cup of tea please?"
Poet says to passerby, "Why are you so proud?"
Passerby replies, "I'm the richest among you all"
                             "Would you like to offer me lunch to share?"
Poet says to passerby, "What's your family background?"
Passerby replies, "I belong to a highly respected family"
                             "Would you like to drop me to my home?"
Poet says to passerby, "Biting back is a curse, what's your opinion?"
Passerby replies, "I don’t like biting back"
                             "but the person who facilitates me is the mean one"
Poet says to passerby, "Are you educated person?"
Passerby replies, "Yes! I am."
                             "But it’s our family tradition to say,
                             "Except us all persons are mean ones"
                             "We don’t like smiling persons"
                             "We don’t care of others"
                             "We appreciate Darwin’s theory"
                             "Man behind the monkey"
                             "But for others."
Poet says to passerby, "Do you know antonyms?"
Passerby replies, "Yes! I know"
                            "We are superior and you are inferior"

If I ever had the power to do something
Would that I had got rid of my own shade

Outer eye strikes the outer surface
But
inner eye strikes the inner soul
Outer surface is going to decay
But
the inner soul is eternal

Would that I had become the eyes of blind one
And might have I seen what he wanted to see
Would that I had become the touch sense
And might have conveyed the message
To those who wanted to touch and feel
Would that I had become the tongue of a dumb one
And might have I made the speech what he wanted to speak
Would that I had become the ears of a deaf one
And might have I heard what he wanted to listen
O, chirping of birds
Whispering of morning air
I often think!