My Lord, please set my heart to make amends,
Speak words of truth, not words of one deranged,
Make me so meek towards my estranged friends
Whose tongues, to scorpions' tails have so exchanged;
Let not my pen, be sharper than their swords,
My coat, make not more colorful than theirs,
Give me the wisdom modesty affords,
I'll only act for good, my heart declares;
I drank perfumes to scent the words I spoke,
And closed my eyes to purify my thoughts,
With fettered hands, to burden I did yoke,
And guide my pen to write nothing of naughts;
……My Lord, make me so light where so I pass,
…...Or let me fly, so not to tread on grass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem