#TrumpVsPowell Taka Soil, Soil Taka

Taka Soil, Soil Taka,

Life is circling around Dhaka.

Today’s king, tomorrow he’s a beggar,

The game of time, nothing remains.

Money falls from the leaves of trees,

Value is empty without hard work.

The smell of wet soil in the sweat,

That money brings the bond of happiness.

In greed, dreams get burned,

Money only pulls tricks.

People of the soil, we meet in the soil,

No one moves leaving money behind.

That’s why I say, keep in mind,

Money is not happiness, look at the heart.

People will remain, soil will remain,

Money will only turn to dust!