It is strong,
It is ominous,
It washes the filths
Of the universe,
Like it we too in our heart
Always nurse,
To wash away filths
From our mind is
The supreme urge.
It is the current
Of the river,
That sweeps away
All worldly fever,
I want to be that river,
Being so -
I want
To be the giver,
Of a neat and clean nature.
O God-
Give me the power
To mend,
So that I could
Draw an end,
All the filths and
Worldly trend,
In making a nice
And blissful tent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem