Very Late Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Daily it happens
With sun’s shine
So many babies are born
The garden is in blossom

Many are destined to depart
Even though they were our dear part
We got to accept the reality
Set by powerful almighty

Not a word in favor or disfavor
It is simple honor
That we have been brought here to breathe
Wind up when faced with death

Nothing unusual
And has to be treated as casual
You have no records
It is only known by lord

Let us preach peace
Curb the hatred menace
Provide happiness to all those who live bear by
With our sincere and utmost try