speak, sir, and be wise.
Speak choosing your words, sir, like an old woman over a bushel of apples.

Sick on my journey,
only my dreams will wander
these desolate moors

धरती हुई है धानी बरसात का ये मौसम.
कुदरत हुई सुहानी जज्बात का ये मौसम.
खिड़की से झांक लो जी मन मोर नाचने को-
दिखते सभी भगत हैं कुछ बात का ये मौसम..

OLTRE tomba
Qualche cosa?
E che ne dici?
Saremo felici?
Terra mai posa,
E mar rimbomba.

Those baptised with water
will have it lighter
than those baptised with sand.

For me, God mixed the sand
with spit.

बात सच्ची हो तो चाहे जिस ज़बा मे बोलिये,
फर्क मतलब पर नहीं पड़ता है ख़ालिक़ कि क़सम ।
'माँ के पैरो मे है जन्नत' क़ौल है मासूम का,
मै मुसल्ले पर भी कह सकता हुं "वन्दे मातरम" ।।

Band concert public square Nebraska city. Flowing and circling dresses, summer-white dresses. Faces, flesh tints flung like sprays of cherry blossoms. And gigglers, God knows, gigglers, rivaling the pony whinnies of the Livery Stable Blues.

Cowboy rags and nigger rags. And boys driving sorrel horses hurl a cornfield laughter at the girls in dresses, summer-white dresses. Amid the cornet staccato and the tuba oompa, gigglers, God knows, gigglers daffy with life’s razzle dazzle.

A PIPPO Pipistrello
Farfalla la fanciulla:
“O vedi quanto è bello
Ridendo in questa culla!
E noi l'abbiamo fatto,
Noi due insiem d' un tratto,
E senza noi fia nulla.”

The courier will depart next day, she's told.
She sews a warrior's gown all night.
Her fingers feel the needle cold.
How can she hold the scissors tight?
The work is done, she sends it far away.
When will it reach the town where warriors stay?

On Mirror Lake outspread for miles and miles,
The lotus lilies in full blossom teem.
In fifth moon Xi Shi gathers them with smiles,
Watchers o'erwhelm the bank of Yuoye Stream.
Her boat turns back without waiting moonrise
To yoyal house amid amorous sighs.