Good morning
Hakikur Rahman

Swear thoughts tremble, more within than the heart
Flowers spread the fragrance, in the dim sum of dawn.
Preparing to hit the target, wind is on the sail
Stood firmly on the front of the boat, just moving forward.
Rush of thought at every watch, call that back
The memories are lost, you stay behind.
Arriving at the new hearth, the new consciousness on the chest
Raising the legs in the direction of the front again, eliminating all the pain.