Like the setting sun I came across a saint,
Sitting beneath the tree encountered by the disciples;
Bowing down their heads on the grounds
Tears are rolling down from their reddened cheeks.
He said,’ I asked the lord to take me aftermath’
In the hereinafter to fight against lies and prejudice.
The answer came to my ear whispering
You are lazy and deaf that you are not complying.
The saint then uttered that there is no way without
Meditation and supplication to the alter upon God.
A man dies and another one gives birth to,
To beautify and enlighten the earth with justice.
And to remove the distortions and wreckage
The life like the mirror as if a shadow covers it
All the time all day and night in the dark dreams.
Truth is the source of divined justice as framed
By the eternal subdued for beaming rays
In the hidden herbs, meadows and the color
Inside the river beds where humans cannot dwell.
As the cluster declared by the lead which is pure
Not adulterated like the gold as if ornamented
In the race of livelihood for being perfection of truth.
Like the sweet voice in the wake of ocean water
Mixed with salty foam is never suitable to drink.
Man may lie on the grassy land naturally washed
As if cleaned up like early woke bathing of the sun
