“O, what a goodly falsehood hath; a goodly apple rotten at the
It's better to have some time to desist
Because it'll start all over again
In the midst of vendible decorated bazaars,
The variegated cooing.
But you'll never stop
Trampling over chattels
And after crushing them,
Walk through rudderless winds.
And while walking, you too will forget
Like everybody else,
The facetious effulgence of champa flowers
The first blooms of jasmine
The plenum of bnoichi fruits
The habits of autumn leaves.
And perhaps the oscillations in the heart of the ocean,
Where only risings exist,
That too will be encased by magical chants
You will whirr; turn only, like all who circumvolve
In this inauspicious time of whirling maelstrom-
After the end of an unwanted winter,
Just like the first working fan, overhead
How life is spinning, and spinning around...