Who knows not what love is, for life its worth?
For life is love and love is life and none
Sans love has e'er been birthed on this earth,
Or has for any bit of time e'er lived on.
Recall how you were playing happy, soulful,
With love, in comfort of your mother's womb
And how you cried as out of the womb you fell,
And how then you did love your mother's bosom.
Then father, toys, each one, each thing that fill'd
Your life with love. Thus you with love have grown.
Thus each, whoe'er one is, with love has lived
And so will live till death does down the curtain.
Even if on deathbed there's none to love for life,
One dies not loveless, but with love for afterlife.
-- N P SAMAL
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