Classic Poem

Both in the sun and rain
without umbrella
a boy beside the road
works ceaselessly from dawn to dusk
breaking the bricks into pieces.

In both eyes he entertains a dream desolate
of merely three handfuls of meals;
the dream certainly not for rich dishes—korma, kabab
nor for princely recipe on the table.

Still everyday remains he unfed
in sun and rain beside the road,
spends his poisonous days-
O the happy men, do you think of him once?

New year, the new guest, sprinkles links of love
in the breast of all.
Collecting those links, you, the rich,
fill up your hands and eat up to your marks
all the things you like best.
But why does that boy remain such a day
helplessly unable to feed himself
with a single handful of plain rice?