They were boys, curious 'bout oranges
While these ripe, and time to grasp
Thus days go on
Until at least the days come,
While at least no a bar works fine

They spend whole the year,
So full of love of the dear trees;
So the day can't be a vain one
From them,

Thousand a days they peep
Through fences of lea
Where situated, but all trees
Somebody took them as thieves
But I can't,
For all they are pure in heart
And also ingenious to will
That no a tree could ruin
In storm or in heavy rain;
Lovely they are until they take
A few of oranges to taste

Why can't they be anyone's love
For, though they pick up, and can't tell
All but I think all 'cause of love-

So, when owners nourish,
The boys become so curious
Whether tree will grow or not
Whether these will be fruitful or not,
So a mystery that haunts-
All but 'tis minds
Matter of love and belief
Yes, to love a tree is but
To love yourself.
'Cause, trees live but
In many ones' curiosity.


Place: Srirampur, Nadia