I am great
You have written something,
And what You have written
On my forehead, my dear,
I am enjoying that.
I am counting here
What is called day
And night, though
It is nothing and I am
Observing Your doings.
I am surrounded by
My anger, my dear,
And anger followed
By death surrounded me.
I am really a dust particle
Flying away as per Your
Written order, my dear,
Still I know not what is danger.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem