When the very Self reaches their own shores
all the weary souls would rest on their oars.
When the roots do smell the scent of their earth
all the lost hearts regain their land of birth.
When Love chooses its abode and anchor
all the tides would dissolve every rancor.
When the roses beguile their beholders
every single music meets their dancers.
When the wounds yearningly seek to be sealed
all the aches would be able to get healed.
And when all the missing links need to bond
Home, that is the world to which we respond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem