Or in meditation under a Bodhi tree
Or crossing borders in the Far East
Giving his gospels and sermons,
Artisans making the statues of Buddha
From stone, clay and metals,
Buddha is Buddha,
Where is he not,
In your soul, in your heart,
On your mind,
Just feel you, feel you it,
just search you, search you it.
Kavi aur uski kavita,Sirf kavita aur kavi.Poetry festivalPoetry for poetry,The poet and his poetry,Only poetry and the poet.
Om-Om,Hari-Hari.Hari,In search of Hari,Hari-Hari,Om-Om.
Burning with hatred, malice and vengeance,Animosity, revengeThe religious crusaders are they,The medievalist peopleSuperstitious and uncultured,Uncultured and uncivilized.The religiously-blind people, mad after and crazy,We mean the bigots, zealots,Fanatics and fundamentalistsTurned human haters and bombers.
Calling your self a rajah and your wife a raani,I know it well your capabilities,You jokery people know it well,Also it that you are boastful, bogus and blunt,If you have to be a leader, you be itBut call you not yourself a hero,A poor class small fellowwhat have you to do barring it?
It’sOf Time,The Haunted House of TimeIs itWithThe Phantoms of TimeSitting as the ListenersUnresponsive.
The fascination for herSo fresh and fine,So lovely and charming to seeJust like a sweet flower stands sheSo innocent and so ignorant,So plain and good,So pure and undefiledThe eyes so magicalAnd full of expression,The lips so pinkAnd full of words to break forthA girl like her, just like herHave I asked for,Have I asked forFrom…
