Traveling by the muddy path, I met a man
I met a man, different from others
He knew nothing, He knew nothing of himself
Nor the world around him

He remembered nothing of yesterday
Wished nothing for today,
and was uncertain about tomorrow
He smiled and sang, laughed and joked
People ran away from him, they got scared of him
For the world called him a mad man

I wondered myself, who is not mad in this mad world
I thought was he really mad,
or the people who called him mad
For God has created him also to be equal
For he knew nothing about rich or poor,
for him all were equal
He ran behind cars, buses and people rather than money

His face was always radiant, happy and contented
I wonder, whether he was really mad or perfect
For the perfect people acted mad
not knowing what to do
The so called perfect people forgot to laugh,
sing and dance
They new only jealousy, power and money

But the man, mad to the world lived a life of innocence
He failed to wear a mask
But lived a life or himself, unaware of all complexities
For in the big mad world or hatred, fight and terror
He seemed calm, pleasant and happy