#MetaplanetBTCPurchase Taka Soil, Soil Taka

Taka Soil, Soil Taka,

Life is a cycle in Dhaka.

Today’s king, tomorrow’s beggar,

The game of time, nothing remains.

Money falls from the leaves of trees,

Value is empty without hard work.

The scent of wet soil in sweat,

That money is the bond of happiness.

Dreams break, burned by greed,

Money only lures with deception.

People of the soil, unite in the soil,

No one moves with money left behind.

That’s why I say, understand clearly,

Money is not happiness, look to the heart.

People will remain, soil will remain,

Money will only turn to dust!