Professional writer, foodie, love poems
Who were we, what have we become, and what will happen now, Let's think together today, all these problems The pride of the land, the place of nature's virtuous beauty,
By Priyabrataa Ganguly4 years ago in Poets
The darkness of days, centuries, Millennia have passed; The chestnuts are burnt by amber, It is none other than the people's dreams,
The frosty, extinguished ashes of the centuries arose, The soil flaunts a golden crown Two paths, listen to the whistling sound of the chariot of time,
For years, wandering in the forest, kissing the obstacles and obstacles, Come sun-gazing, water and stones, the Pandavas came and sparkled.
When obstacles appear, Wake us up from our sleep, twist the mind moment by moment, Shake the body moment by moment. Only by keeping us towards the path,
Who is such an obstacle in the world, Who can survive in the mug of a brave male, When the male gets Uprooted on the way to the mountain.
Summer is left, let the Ganga flow freely, Let the peaks sink and the crowns flow away. Have rocky, high ground? Then you will break it.
Should I bow to you or to your river, forest? My beloved country! Should I bow to the body or the mind? Who should I bow to India? To whom shall I bow?
Don't leave your pride, don't get cut off, Don't bow down on others, even if the flame bursts, If you yourself want to live in the face of death,
Sweet life happened ever since I felt the burden of suffering, I am the cry of the poet, I am the necklace of tears that flow from this
May the sparks be decorated in tears filled with tears Come to my crematorium, blow a horn, Then shoot an arrow across the chest,
The night started telling me like this, the moon of the sky, What a unique creature even a man is. He himself gets trapped by making his own troubles,
