Ah, in just a sudden dunk of desires
This soul whole lost and mires
What if bewaring of fugacious the desires
Itself ere death, cerebrate higher empires..
Numbered down to naught desires whole lot
Itself ere death means bliss blissful a lot
What if differing human, his animal fought..?
Born a spiritual birth blissful, is it not?
And his bliss is his'I', his 'heart' all true
But in empyrean harmony his senses accrue
Temperamental satiety erstwhile all through
In dissipation his senses but to wake in bliss new
Indeed thought provoking poem…much in small canvas… 10 MS. NIVEDITA UK
a beautiful and peaceful state of mind...this bliss....lovely mam please read and rate my 'a baby's chat'....i would love to have your comments on it
'...Numbered down to naught desires whole lot Itself ere death means bliss blissful a lot...' Well done Ma'mn Ten dr. sakti
Born spiritual Birth... but how many? 'Desires'... well said when steeply attached Soul has to be lost. Its nice to have desires... Only having desired for material bliss Humans can raise above to find eternal bliss. Its rare to be born with that bliss. But the idea is good. Good read. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
bliss...........what if bewaring of fugacious......... in dissipation of.........in bliss..... we have to be and for peace of soul bliss is a must....