Thursday, September 19, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
A poem for September - To the birth of a nation - Malaysia
A mango is nothing like a durian.
It doesn't fall when it is ripe unless it is rotten.
You have to go catch the fruit
while it is near the bees, the birds and the sky.
A mango is sweet and sour, and smells first love.
A mango is nothing like a durian.
It doesn't divide the people into love and hatred.
A mango is not a king nor a queen.
A mango is as common as you and me.
Every garden has its own guardian - a mango tree.
Who's yours, Malaysia?
A country doesn't fall when it is ripe
unless it chops off all the mango trees.
It doesn't fall when it is ripe unless it is rotten.
You have to go catch the fruit
while it is near the bees, the birds and the sky.
A mango is sweet and sour, and smells first love.
A mango is nothing like a durian.
It doesn't divide the people into love and hatred.
A mango is not a king nor a queen.
A mango is as common as you and me.
Every garden has its own guardian - a mango tree.
Who's yours, Malaysia?
A country doesn't fall when it is ripe
unless it chops off all the mango trees.
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