They Are Futile
A Anjandev Roy
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Withered flowers
Are futile,
People tread them
And always keep them aside,
Sad and unhappy songs
Pervade their domain,
But today is the different day,
Their poet friend has arrived,
The dry and crinkly flowers are
Extremely jubilant inside and outside,
They know the happy songs are
Surely waiting for them,
Their great poet will extract sweet fragrance from their wretched soul
And glorify them with his glorious ink,
Thereafter the withered flowers will shine forever as significant flowers.
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