(Jethai thake sobar adham diner hote din)
Oh my Lord when I prostrate at Thy feet
My head suddenly stops rolling
Prior to reaching the destitutes
The poorest of poor standing at the end
Where Thy feet touch the most degraded
I can't bring my head rolling down
My ego cannot go there where Thou go
Men without garb with sickly bare body
Those poorest of the poor waiting in the end
Since my head only looks for rich and famous
So, I can't reach the lonely waiting in line
Poorest of the poor standing in the end
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Epietle-esque in tone, and powerful in expression...The olde English you employ which is occasionally employed in the New Testament, (after the period of Arameic tongue) , works well with this piece. Solid Craftsmanship. ~FjR~