Pierced ears and dyed hair walking in the fiery sun..
Hill Bata was covered with tar from the broken rocks.
All the five hundred and fifty Jatakas preached to them..
They were heavier than the earth and beat the dead.

Rama knows the book of Sita after turning the page..
Natuwa knows the limitations she endured for flowers..
After seeing the tattoo, many people who write the character are in a coma..

Inside this chest is Che Guevara Osho Dalai Lama..//

When I walked on the moon, between the eyes of Induvara..
A friend who stood alone from the flagpole to the pit..
It is not sand, it is always floating in the water.
What suture was said about them in the sermons of Malagamaka..

In the courtyard of the iron dream swinging from the rods peacocks..
When the flowers are blooming, the smell of cannabis is in my heart..
They smiled at our friends from afar..

We always looked at the outside before the book..///