Whether in river sands,
deep mine or in queen’s necklace
gold glows ever,
gold remains always gold.
The sunflower smiles ever,
the path of the rising sun
at each daybreak it waits for…
But why does man waver,
and fail to behold the rays of life?
Deep into the bay of betrayal
why does he step without a thought?
He does what he should not.
Man is no more brave nor is he bold,
at a throwaway price his soul he has sold…
Although originates from ooze and mud,
is not the lotus dirt-free ever?
Although walks in thick slush,
picks up food from it,
has anybody at any time and any clime
seen a shabby and unclean swan?
Why does man then muddy his path,
and fail to remain ever a human?