Dusk far away in it’s childhood,
The fairy of night curtains down,
As the process of sensation begins
The rebirth of humans ends,
On the virgin horizon of earth and sky.
A evolution of justification jubiliates,
Rushing through the carpet of blossoms;
The clouds sings the lyric of harmony,
A standing pond on the lap of the land,
With the fragrance of wet mud around;
The flight of the moon on a lonely background,
Plays the drama of real insane emotions,
The passing of breath around life
Tells the fact of sacred living
The colours on the wings of butterfly
The flower plants, a kiss of bliss
On the base of many silences,
Can’t we sense volumes of speak?
Don’t we feel,
That a dumb down there;
is telling everything?