The whole world a mayar khela,
Man and woman as puppets raised
Doing the puppet dance
Into the hands of destiny
When pulled or strung and loosened.
The houses we see are those of maya
Which Bhartrihari felt
In Pingla's love,
Everything but attachment,
House, wife, son, daughter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem