Thrash not the lash more and more
As the stars stare at the sore of shore
To hear the whispers of vespers pour-
Might in the delight of the quiet night
To fill the bowl of my soul with light
Enlightened when the bowl of the soul is filled with light! Beautiful!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good one, Vipins. Keep writin, my friend.