Hindi is like a rose, 

The language that always flows. 

No matter how much you push it down, 

It always comes back with a frown. 

It sounds like music to my ears, 

Never failing to bring tears. 

I love the way it sounds, 

And would give any number of pounds. 

I depend on Hindi so much, 

Like a drunkard on booze. 

Hindi is something I can never lose. 

The teachers taught the golden language, 

That student always anguished. 

Now Indians love Hindi, 

Like a forehead attracted to a bindi. 

Hindi connects people altogether, 

Remembering childhoods shared together. 

People laugh and remember their tough childhood, 

And wish they could return to their boyhood. 

Hindi will stay with me till my last days, 

The language that I will always praise, 

Hindi is like a rose.