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Write a hundred
A thousand
Ten thousand lines ,
To only find
A Picasso of his image
Enigmatic ,
Almost
Like the cosmos
Manifesting in
A thousand ,
Ten thousand ,
A million
Moods :
To sometimes
Rise above
The teeming multitudes ,
Lonesome
Lost to his own self ;
But always finding
In narrow , winding ,
Lanes of love
A way
To the hearts
Of his countrymen ;
And trying
Not to live in vain ,
This Apostle
This voice from beyond
The stellar wind ,
O Jawahar
Sayonara ,
Al Vida ,
Jai Hind !
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29 May 1964
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29 May 1964
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