| Strive hard to make meet ends, All natures of jobs he himself employed, Hope after hope for someday; When the fruits of his labour, Would be realized,having spent Fruits of his immediate labour On a child with a promise. The wind blows;sun smiles |
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| And the beauty of the moon Has not shown or given any Warning of an impending danger Cut short is she by the evil designs Of religiously-opiated people Who kill for licence to heaven |
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| A grievous sorrow have you committed Eehh,a grievous crime indeed You that kill a promising child and, Leave a stream of tears coursing down The cheeks of its parents A grievous crime you have committed! |
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