It is the thought,
Which I sought;
And at last of divine's wrought,
I came near, ne'er in shame,
Full of faith's flame to dedicate the fame,
When my Lord;
Made me mad...
With whimsical of o'erwhelming, o'erflowing
Love, full of tender, splendor and grace glowing,
Blooming with mirth,
I wander in wonder on Earth?
But God in me will sing,
Makes my notes, flee with magic wing;
Dower meed to holy heed, and deliverance thou bring.
Copyright @ 2005 Nagamuthu Karthikeyan Osho
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem