Love comes from the heart, not the brain,
The superfluity of reasons the brain drains.
The brain is the surface of mind that glitters,
But the heart is the power house of the self,
That with joy unknown ever matters.
The prime nerve center of human body remains in heart,
It is the sympathetic ganglia, that illumines with divine art.
Atman, -the only identity of human life,
Takes its citadel in the heart’s cave.
And creates the tidal of Empathy’s wave.
The language of the brain attaches to reason,
And encircles a periphery like a prison.
But the language of the heart arises the water-level,
The voice of feeling from every one’s well.
The heart knows no reason, but the liberty of ignorance,
It equals friends and foes in one sequence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem