On the universe,
The vast nature
Full of the
Innumerable
Creatures and
Objects and
The whole creations,
Among them
The relations,
All these show
Love and care,
Depending on
One another,
And helping
One another;
Human should
Learn these all
And practise
In practical life,
To avoid all
The chaoses
In the society
Arise in time
And out of time.
Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │21 January,2018
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Mother and land is my motherland
Mother fed the land suppliedThey both took care of me,Yet they are concernedMuch of my health,I should doSuch toThem.Copyright © Muzahidul Reza │ 10 December,2017
The damn souls lose real spirit to be
Of spirituality andInvolve in all ill doings,Disobeying the truthStart for self harming.About:Reza Syllabic Verse (Edited, Revised And Additional Version) :– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –…
Now the earth is a strange operation theatre
Are being taken to cut on and onBut no return,As the doctors are robotsMaking the easy uses of the tools guns and bombsThe easy uses of the drugs chemicals and poisonsThe easy violations of the rules and regulations.Copyright © Muzahidul Reza | 05/03/2017
When you are in power
To be kind and virtuousWith equity and justice;Done proper activitiesWith heavenly blesses.Copyright © Muzahidul Reza | 10/07/2017
One word
Make sentenceSentences make speechSpeeches make bookBooks contain much knowledgeMuch knowledge makes developmentsWorldly, psychologically and spirituallySecuring humans freedomsIf humans understand, really.Copyright © Muzahidul Reza | 09/10/2017
I told you further
You did not careSo the dangerCame in handsOf chaotic bands,Now you all manFearing of them.Copyright © Muzahidul Reza | 05/04/2017
Press the grape, and let it pour
Around the board its purple shower:
And, while the drops my goblet steep,
I’ll think in woe the clusters weep.
Weep on, weep on, my pouting vine!
Heaven grant no tears, but tears of wine.
Weep on; and, as thy sorrows flow,
I’ll taste the luxury of woe.
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Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers
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Shall the Harp then be silent, when he who first gave
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Oh, banquet not in those shining bowers,
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In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown,
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