Had the connecting bridges and roadways been not,
Could they have been modern,
Had the radio, the watch, the cycle,
The bus, the train, the tram been not,
Had the school, the college, the pen and paper been not,
Could you have been modern?
Had medicines been not, could you have been?
Typhoid, malaria, tuberculosis, small pox would have
Finished it all, what to say it more?
Had we not talked of democracy, development, welfare,
Equality, justice and human rights?
Failing to sing the songOf love,Full of betrayal, misunderstanding and infidelity.Again wipe I out the tearsAnd smearing with sobs and sighs and their remembrancesKeep I singing the song of life and love,How was I,How have I become?Even if return I back to, where to returnAs they are notWho used to be once,The same house now…
Let us see itMoving into.Is it an art museumOr a love museumOf strange meeting?Is it about an art houseOr a love house?But there is somethingOf art and the passion for,Fashion, art, design,Memorabilia and memento.The oldhouse itselfThe museum of his novel.
At entrances,The erotic sculptures in love,Flirting, hugging and embracing.
Like a maiden sweet.
For destiny’s sake,All those who want to read,All those who want to see the light,Militants,The girls abducted,Have, have mercy on them!Release them, release them kindly, O Nigerian militants,The little-little schoolchildren,The schoolgirlsAt your mercy and kindness,Wanting to read, wanting to get light,Release them, release them please,o militants!
And how to capture that?China ko bas esi ki chintaKiski jamin kaha padi huyi haiAur use kaisei capture karei?
