As a child lets its mother to grasp its tiny hand,
I let my life to be designed by Your arty hand!
I know not where the days lead me,
I know but Your hands ever hold me!
I know not what affairs days give me,
I know but Your hands ever grip me!
I may stupidly go near devouring fire,
Your hands are there to drag to secure!
I may run madly into sea ready to drench,
Your hands are there to push me to beach!
I may be about to fall from a peak very steep,
Your hands are there to track me and stop!
Though I often delight in worldly enjoyments,
I always keep an eye on Your crimson garments!
Feeling the soft sarry touching me occasionally,
To make sure that You are with me continuously.
When Your all pervading eyes watch my play,
When Your heart is on me, I touch no worry!
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(written on 17-8-07 posted on 1-2-08)
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely sentiment, glad I got to read this.