He came to me; with a firm attitude
Trying to be verisimilitude
Yet I am no less than an observer
He underestimated me as a believer
He started brisking, bluffing being an elegant
For he does not know what is the secret of smartness meant
His good looks and richness does not at all matter;
For his soul is segregated and filthily scattered.
You ask me who is a Perfect Man?
The one who desires to make incapable can
He has affection for the indigent with firm and care
And in these holy deeds, does not have time to spare.
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