Take aggregate of
your actions, my dear,
and take a note
nothing is there
to be sad or happy.
It is the boiled paddy
That is not there
to be a crop-tree.
Once you are under
the net of love,
hate is not there
to touch you
at any time.
If you so like touch me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem