Chirping, hopping around
And twittering,
Where have they flown away?
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Two smokers going, hand in hand, glove in glove,
Opening the lighter,LightingThe cigar held in between fingersAnd taking into the mouthAnd moving.Another too with teh cigar into the mouth,I mean in between the lipsAnd getting lit from the friend’s smoking cigaron the lipsAnd the friends going, friends from Bombay,O, sing you a song, friends from Bomaby have come,Salute them!
She is a modern girl, has lived in towns and cities,
Courtesy and delicacy,Sweetening with please and thank you and goodbye,See you again,Waving the hand.
Nazrul,
SingingShyasangeet?In which terracotta templeOf heart,Lie you singingThe songs of Kali?Your Shyasangeet,ShyamasangeetTouches me deeply, Nazrul.You fluting,Fluting in the terracotta temple,Lost in flutingIn your love for Kali!Why, why is Kali Shyama,Why, why Dark Black,The Myth of CreationSo wrapped in mysteries?So is Radha Shyam,Somewhat dark, but beautifully bluish,So we drenched in our devotion,The colour impacting us!
The ganjaraja taking the chillum
And smoking,I mean taking the puffs fromAnd the mood changing, colouring,The eyes reddeningAnd he growing light as well as moodyIn the talks of his.
Are you yourself,
Then others?If to root out corruption,How to,Say you,Tell us the means and ways of thatIf you have to lead the movementBut turn not into a road show merely,Holding nukkad sabhasTo make a fun ofAll that is good in us.
How lovely is
Furry and whiteAnd lovely!The Arctic fox,The white foxJust as a dreamOf the snowy world!The polar fox,The white fox,The snow fox,How lovely the fox!