Life is nothing except a moving brook
That,as careless,always keeps rolling
Without stopping, bending like crook
Along with mud,dirt keeps flowing
After issuing from it's birth place
See nothing but for the destination
That has been laid in the palace
Starts staggering along the creation
Water that seems so clean and pure
When the journey takes place
Later it becomes very dirty and impure
As soon as it gives high speed to it's race
Although it feels pride over it's purity
Yet,it's not so as it is ignorant,unknown
Not know how it gets it's impurity
It's sound seems as if it creates moan
With all kind of hustle and bustle
It runs as fast as it can run
And reaches the spot with this rustle
Full of sadness,regret with no fun
There it tries to find it's way
In that huge and great Ocean
It is impossible to find even it's own ray
In the end,it disappears in this blue scene
Now nothing is left behind
Life once came and now gone
Only the deeds are here around
That have been counted by the Throne