POTTER AND THE SUN
Rises in the east with cheerful rays of hope,
For one who makes pots in a mountain slope .
Who prays for the shinning sun to see,
And takes a bath in the dark blue sea.
Hides in the west in the dusk of the day,
When the potter goes for rest in his stay.
Dreams of earning money for the next day,
By selling the pots he had made in the day.