The upward light thought for itself,
Power was added to power so wonderful.
My soul is smiling due to art,
My books are shelved accordingly.
I have those saints in my log,
Meeting me like a train on fire.
But their wisdom is so strong
That my soul is becoming wiser.
The descending light is upon the heart,
Hatred and love are too many enemies,
Love is the opposite of sin,
And you live within the levels of hurt.
My light is tonight a goal,
My soul empties the fire,
The tunnel is burrowed little
As more tunnelling is required.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem