I gazed at a man’s slow, weary walk,
clad in all white with a stick in hand,
bent double down like a neck of a stork,
with a knot of white hair tied with a band.
Holding white flowers next to his heart,
with down-cast eyes in meditating mood
murmuring some verses learnt so smart,
he looked forward to end evils for good.
The scene, for some time, flashed in my mind,
and it was soon, eclipsed with the time,
by some flirting scenes I saw in my prime,
yet it once again seems to haunt my mind.