Strange life is this !
That I live everyday,
and yet is not mine ;
My walk lies north -
that I know ;
Who makes me drift southwards ?
And , isn't it strange indeed ,
that my reflections float with the stars ,
my deeds are smeared with dust !
The eternal happiness I seek
is not far ;
and I run for the worldly pleasures
- those like mirages , glitter ;
Thou art most strange of all !
07 Jan 1956