Man, when entirely engulfed
By the complexities of life,
Finds himself dreadfully jammed
By pressures massive, and faints.
When solutions of any kind
Inept to solve issues intricate,
And pain mounts to masses,
One slowly spins into a saint.
When courses of acumen initiates
Soothing echoes within, the saintly
Soul dives deep into blessed trance,
Blissful oblivion and absolute ease.
True, Pressure makes one faint,
But, wisdom turns him saint.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem