The glitter of Crown sometimes glitters with a glow false
Kingdoms sometimes rise up on shattered bodies of the righteous
I wonder how saints can enjoy bliss, despite wailing agonized from pits bottomless
Brand me a sinner for these blasphemous, unwarranted wanderings
O Lord, compassionate, bounteous, forgive me, the poor sinner these raging vanities
Grant me serenity to accept the constitution of silence with folded hands
Though I feel a saint should choose hell, I confess, O Lord! My craving for Thy bliss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem on life,10+