“I am not born to be a poet.I am sorry,”               This is what you should not say

just open the window     And look out to hear          The wind  singing lullaby         To trees and creepers alike

And puttin them to sleep.       And look at the rebel bud         Whose green cap is blown away      And who bashfully reveals her face full of beauty.            And seeing all these miracles of nature,   Don’t you chane your harsh mind,

And think at least for a moment.   Of making a poem, Oh mankind?

And look out to hear     The wind singing lullaby             To treees and creepers alike

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