Fresh mornings arise in time’s sleep,
Sleep causes us to collect awe of Him.
We actuate the sensations of greatness
To alleviate suffering in our hearts.
To see the words inside the words
Is like reading the very language of God.
My opposing is my gathering,
When words are let out we must all praise Him.
And so the glorification of Our Lord is afoot,
Lulling the sadness and exterminating fever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Naveed Amazing poetic skills here