a true disciple listens
and takes every word of the great teacher
patiently he takes note of
the errors committed and corrects them
the teacher points out the room
for improvement and the true disciple enters the door of wisdom
he takes carefully each criticism
and creates what he thinks is more beautiful to the
heart and makes a record of what should
have been and ought to be
and then the right time comes for blooming
the true disciple unfolds his own creation like the petals of the lotus
at the middle of the murky pond and then finally
exudes his own perfection under the bright sheen of
the mighty sun of the new day smiling
more deserving now and as bright as ever diamond-like
another new spring rising higher than its source
the teacher by his side like the wind hushing
applauding and bowing before him
so pleased is his heart and then in a moment passing him by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem