The Formula is for bliss

Somebody asked with great enthusiasm,

Will you write a poem?

On the new color of love?

We were stunned to hear

Who is this form of question?

what about love

Can be so tight!

When Kabir said that

Love does not grow,

Love is not sold in the market.

Whatever the king and his subjects wish,

Give head and let it be taken.

You say it, dear poet

Where did you get that little love from?

When love is everlasting!

Who told the date?

Spring is a symbol of love,

But Sawan also excites.

Oh questions! In my mind

Every season showers love.

Those who are selling it in the market,

Take your demand there.

No poetry is for sale,

Please explain this era!

the ever-exploring soul

Of the conflict of love,

the mind is filled with love

The formula is for bliss