My eyes haven��t become glass balls
They well; when they see dolour
Of deprived churls; blood curdles
Somewhere deep from the entrails
Bursts out aloud, a painful shrill
People sneer; call me a fool
��This world you can never overhaul
Reconcile! Mingle with evil
Learn the art of survival��
These are morals from grass blades
With winds in tune they waggle
But I wish I live like lotus
Born and dwell in filthy pool
I still fight the surrounding foul