These mighty Arabian waves have always attracted me,
Dancing in the deep, telling the devotees,
The tales of blood and death of Islamic terror,
With tears of pain and silence of crematorium.
Listening the tales of blood and terror,
I plunged into pain and tear,
Thoughts to where my heart, brooding, took me back,
To in-numerable bloody invasions.
Like the tossing wind, flight of happy pigeons,
That house in the marvel,
A voice from the inner depths of spirit
Shook the certitudes of my thought.
Eternity breaks through time,
Past and present intermingle in its image.
In the inner shadows I lose myself,
Drowning in the sea-depths of timeless Jyotir-Linga.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem