If my poems are
Not fit to read and accept
By all the common and also
Wise readers, poets, saints,
Sages, critics and editors,
Let me say my life is cursed.
If the fruits of the trees
Of my orchard here and there,
Are not fit to eat and digest by all,
Let me say it is for
My faults at any stage
At any time and let me say
My life is cursed
And not that of the tree.