#USChinaTensions Taka Soil, Soil Taka

Taka Soil, Soil Taka,

Life is going in circles in Dhaka.

Today’s king, tomorrow’s beggar,

The play of time, nothing left.

Money falls from the leaves of the trees,

Without hard work, the value is empty.

The smell of wet soil from sweat,

In that money, happiness is bound.

Greed burns and dreams break,

Money only lures with a trick.

Earthly people, meet in the soil,

No one walks away with money.

That’s why I say, understand this well,

Money is not happiness, look at the heart.

People will remain, soil will remain,

Money will only turn to dust!