Each star in the sky shining,
With my consciousness, intertwining,
There is no I and them,
From the same source we stem.
Inverse is the game of love,
Cursed are those who look above,
Or below to the underworlds,
From outside cannot Truth unfurl.
Bliss, can no kingdom provide,
Hidden like the pearl, inside,
Neither King, Queen, rich nor poor,
Can open our inner sacred door.
For I've searched earths and skies,
To find only but rotten lies,
Men of honour, life and light,
Becoming slaves to wrong and right.
The inner river of wondrous joy,
Which even the Gods must enjoy,
Everlasting, immortal, always there,
Flowing within those that share.
Each man and woman must decree,
Bliss sits inside of me,
This is every human's birth-right,
Yet ego is the biggest fight.
For, there is no I and them,
From the same source we stem,
So, cursed are those who look above,
Inverse is the game of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem