Intoxication bears its semblance
As lies its flavour in the weary hour
Breathlessness surfaces as becomes
The need of the moment is peace
Fragrant flowing senses dispel
The fear of dual anxiety
You bear the burden of the one
Who lies in your arms till morn
Oh sleep! Glory to your offering
As mind surrenders and body vows
To be in your arms undisturbed
The morn hails you awake
Again to snugly disband for the night
Once more in your splendid arms
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'The need of the moment is peace'... Yes that's what we get from sleep... senses and mind withdrawn, there we are in HIS arms only... A great philosophical truth wonderfully expressed...10