Wherever my eyes wander I see Him,
I wonder and search, beautify and describe;
When does knowledge end after the end of all?
My naked eye observes the words coming from
My heart, I cannot complain to Him if I am alive,
And I am alive, forming beliefs in my head that hurts.
My saviour ends the sight of my soul, destitute I am,
For He wants to deliver me from the evil of entrances;
The messages of a faraway man is of the dunes,
But my widest wisdom will amply scream into ears
Like thunder and lightning. My saviour is a concert
Of music in building and pounding, like the drum!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem