Dear Buddha, l can play beams of light
I can play echoing green tree, and cup
I can play my races, the golden races
I can play axe and spade, and bury down
The thinker’s formidable thought
I can play beneath night’s shade
All the merry years are winged
I can play the times of innocence
My pilgrims are coming toward me
I can play what I got in this night
I can play god’s eyes and their holy feet
I can play lantern of truth in war time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem, like it, a great write.