In every path I cross there is something
A lost childhood dear memory lingering
In the narrow lanes of Medina sweeping
Is an old wrinkled lady veiled in a scarf
Long years of misery have left deep scars
On her innocent dewy-eyed fresh face
Time with its reeling wheel never efface
I bowed gently her hand wanting to kiss
She swept me with dim eyes of a princess
I saw in her deep brown eyes a future case
Of my sentimental state which never cease
Cheeringly I pressed a dime in her soft hand
She wondered being such a generous is hard
In a time when everything means the reverse
She bountifully pelted in grateful praising verse
Delighted to see there is still some good
To be found in every blooming single bud
Bend-headed I walked down the empty street
Aimlessly in a rugged robe heading to sunset  
I pondered on many empty-bellied children
Stuffed in every sidewalk minerâs mansion
To the sea, to the sea let everything sadly drift  
In the ocean of red ink let everything gently melt  
Justice, equality, dignity, honour have been there
In times and areas defined as brutally primitive
I call everybody who might be still sensitive  
To linger patiently behind every closed door
And hear a painfully suffering rugged soul