It's not real, so is not truth, poor World;
Serve, Love, Purify, Meditate and realize Truth…
Before the breakage of horizon, Ah!
Beggars, we, come for a drop of love-nectar.
Give us pardon first and curse then, if-
We seem like spirits, Oh Universe…! !
It's not real, so is not truth, poor World;
Serve, Love, Purify, Meditate and realize Truth…
Left, our bed of roses, peace to get
Amid-most garden, the supreme made;
Gave up, chlorined water and conditioned air
To taste and joy gifts of nature.
It's not real, so is not truth, poor World;
Serve, Love, Purify, Meditate and realize Truth…
He moves to West with reddish gloomy face,
Just burn the Hurricane-lamps in skies,
Roaring, the sinful sea, coming, the yellow Navy of waves;
Dears, be fearless, let him do what he likes.
It's not real, so is not truth, poor World;
Serve, Love, Purify, Meditate and realize Truth…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem