by Quaid - Uz- Zaman
Everything I have, all borrowed and gifted;
And I owe to the small, high, and great.
Nothing is mine—innocence or crime—
And all that is acquired and inherited;
Body and soul, and all, and all—
Nothing is mine.
My joys and sorrows,
Griefs and joys,
Dreams and despair,
Quivering shades and undulating rays—
All from within and all from elsewhere.
I must shake off all
To be part of the whole.
From:
Bangladesh
Copyright ©:
Quaid- Uz- Zaman
Last updated August 14, 2025