In a rose garden, I am the bulbuli.
Talk I don't, but I am also with speech...
I croon, and I put forth melody.
Daytimes come and go, sweetness on strings of rhyme;
In my mind, they leave behind colored dyes.
As love's repayment, under the sun gold-dripping[1]
Golden songs I sing.
I know your words, fashioned well;
For all of you I knit a golden mesh.
That netting's gold does not get seen...
A champak bud is made to bloom in psyche.
Sarkarverse article
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He cultivates and represents devotion.
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