I am the cradle of all civilizations
In my veins I run
The seed of human history
In my chest I carry the grandeur of Taj-Mahal
the wonder of hanging garden of Babylon
Ten thousand years of old blood
Sweetened with human struggle
I pump in my heart
How a slap or two from a brute power or a beast
Could ensure a defeat of a man whose
Roots of achievements go down
To the nether land below
And up into the sky!
Men are men
And beasts are beasts
Without reason and logic they attack
And in front of their brute power
A man from the race of culture and art
Always get a defeat physically
But artistically, he never
And does not