They
The most conservative
People?
I think about the treatment
Subjected to you
By the heads and chieftains
Of the bivouacs.
Laila, Laila,
Those blind people could not,
Could not feel it,
The world was yours, yours,
Even it is, it is of yours.
Laila, Laila,
You are,
You are in my heart, heart,
even the heart beats for you.
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Man fathers,
God gives,god gives,But hear you,God gives,GivesOne or two to rear,Not to leave on the footpathsWith a bowlInto the hands.
Krishna-Krishna, Rama-Rama,
Krishna-Krishna, Rama-Rama,Rama-Rama, Krishna-Krishna,O sing you, sing you, friends,Clapping, clapping and dancing,Rama-Rama, Krishna-Krishna,O sing, sing you, friends,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Krishna-Krishna, Rama-Rama,Friends, you have seen,You have understood,No life, there is no lifeWithout hare Rama, hare Krishna,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Sing, sing you, Rama-Rama,Krishna-Krishna just for some time,Some time, thanks, thank you, friends!
Vidyasagar
At Birsingha, GhatalTelling of his birth and childhoodAnd at Karmatar, JamtaraHis last days away from among the tribals.Pages From his LifeIswar Chandra VidyasagarReading under the street lamplight,Crossing the small streamTo see his sick mother.N.B. One title, two sub-titles
What does my heart say to,
Speak to,I want to,I want toHear,Let them,Let them say itAs sometimes one mustLend to,Lend to them?
Bob,
My dear Bob,You singing,SingingFrom your heart,Heart, heart,Heart not,Soul, soul,Soul, soul too notBut as a singer,SingerOf heart,Heart, heart,Soul,Soul, soulSo soulfully,Soulfully,Soulfully not,So heartfully,Heartfully,Heartfully notBut a singer,A singer too not,But a guitarist,A guitarist too notBut a musician,A musician too notBut a composer,A bandman,A bandman,Strumming,StrummingIn company,In company of his band,Bob,Bob,Bob DylanAnd the music,Music,The music of life,Life notSoul, soul,Heart, heartAccompanied…
One day I may
May write,But never will IMy autobiographyFull of lies.