Deep in your soul,
On the golden regal throne,
You endowed me with kingship
On whatever ever you have;
Enthralled by your gifts,
Overwhelmed by its wealth,
I devoted to you myself.
You looked not back thereafter,
Stone after stone and row after row,
Love and trust’s temple you raised
Around me in sanctum sanctorum;
So sacred I felt myself,
I rose to God’s heights
And bestowed you with devout boons.
Years passed by,
And you blossomed like jasmine;
A thousand princes sought
Your golden regal throne;
A hundred ministers around
Heckled you to select one
And cornered you to oblige one.
You yielded not a whit,
You looked aside with contempt;
While endowed me with kingship,
You refused the throne outside;
I watched the game from afar,
And ordained to move me from the throne
To give you a concerted life.
Silently you wept all that day,
And refused to vacate me from throne;
You moved away step by step,
But, held my kingship and throne intact;
You moved to stark solitude
Of the love and trust’s temple you raised
To worship me in sanctum sanctorum.
I knew your love,
But valued your joy;
I knew not love itself is joy;
No joy you have away from me,
No life you see distant from me;
I found how deep and devout you are,
No worlds can stir your faith in me.
You gave me your throne,
You gave kingship over you,
For what great cause, I cannot figure ever;
You stuck to me forever
At considerable sacrifice
To stay as mine all through my soul,
For what great grist, I cannot figure ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem