Kavita: Maharaj Birshamsher, do you know?

Daisy Mori said one day—

“That's Birshamsher

Jung Bahadur is sitting in another corner of Tundikhel"

Mori is talented, how does history come to him!

I think anyone is brave

I see a Jung Bahadur in every village

I see a Jung Bahadur in every village

Kotparva's auspicious time Kuribse...

The pine on the pine on the sword...

The finger on the trigger...

Sometimes, when hunger strikes the knife

I am standing on the sky bridge offering you—

Maharaj Birshamsher, Jani Ho?

Sir, don't look back

I am tired of the jokes

I saw that people laugh

I said that people laugh

To me this whole earth

is full of jokes

No one gave me anything without injury

I used to love to be beautiful and walk around

My love for lipstick, powder, nail polish

My love for sisters and brothers-in-law

Seeing my isolation towards boys of my own age

Bau Mordar broke the nest of spade

was broken in my cradle

and thus in the world of injuries I

entered

Injuries Collected Collected Collected

I became a museum

Chotsibaya someone me something

did not give

One day Rabat poet said

was lovingly given to me

A center fruit chewing gum

(the first time someone gave me something

apart from the injury)

How sweetly he spoke

and asked Sancho-bisancho

said I will write a song about my grief

Drunk with joy for the first time in life

I felt like I was going to die

but, in this murderous country created by the Maharajs

by sticking to the poet's words Where can you find

life?

Jan ta ma la basanta yam I also like to give

when Jacaranda flower

(Bhangerifool also says it, the same Daisy said)

becomes purple-covered Serofero of Ratnapark

sounds like this—

spilled across the floor

Bhangeriphoolere

with my hiccups and tears

talk is done

has embraced my signatures

Maharaj Virshamsher, you must be bored except for

khunkharabi, all of you

thing

sounds boring, huh?

This country is in the hands of murder

This country's soul is a murderer.

yourself and

That mosquito racket is called

(I learned from Daisy)

What looks like a badminton bat!

, even if it kills two or four mosquitoes

It seems like a terrible murder

Sometimes I can't sleep all night...

Oh, how could the Maharajas sleep?

has killed his own uncle...

himself has made the children of his own father into a sotara...

Sometimes the mirror may have done one or two things, that—

"Is there a limit to cruelty or not?"

Sometimes the soap expressed the sorrow, that -

"I can't wash my bloody hands"

Kaile Maharaj! Now you

must have felt like a shock

aside, your watch house's

Each Tang Tang

makes my hunger grow louder

Get off the horse

I will give you one of my strong silicone breasts

going up and down the stairs

The chests of unfortunate young women The recipe for catching the

was your

What kind of country made by murderers

occurs, Is

a re-look?

Maharaj Veerashamsher, do you know?