This morn,
By singing journeys,
How You inspire,
By Your songs of past
Of 1781,
To this pleasant morn,
How You leave a long prose
Into me like a festive flowing cause,
And i see how the streets sing eternity,
Where past and present beautifully gets merged,
Where art of poesy finds an upsurge...
And on leaves i just keep tabs of dreams,
By art i keep all beauteous scenes-
Of evolution,
Of journeys...
And 2 bighas, 13 cottahs,
And 7 chittacks-
Story of Melvyn Douglas,
All become a part of me.
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