The jewel of earth are the spring blossoms,
Amid thousand varieties, the marigolds dazzles.
Yet, the beauty of marigolds, they bloom on hilly cliffs,
Neither quenching the bees thirst, nor appeasing the heavenly gods.

The sun that illuminates this world has sunken in western horizon,
And the beams of crescent moon, it drifted above the nimbus shades.
Thus the temporal world of mine, its shrouded in darkness
And this lonesome journey, its sees no destination.

Oh, the angel of my bygone childhood ages,
Thee turned to a stunning young maiden.
Throbbing my heart, the cherubic damsel.
Why gloomily you leave me now, my beguiling village.

If with the silken care, life turns debacle.
In desperation, then with wrathful dagger, pierce it hard.
Let the bloods of discontentment ooze harder.
Leaving a vacuum, where toxics can refill.
For its odds, that is paid best, and not the bests.

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