Man bequeathed with lamps and lanterns—
Light of Vedas, Upanishads,
Of Bibles, Korans, Dhammapads,
Many a religion he learns,
Which, as lamps, long are extinguished,
He walks in dark, falls, gets anguished.
As warning signals are lamps used,
Not spreading light on paths to walk,
But as clutches, quarrelsome talk,
He's perplexed if falls, nigh confused,
Refuses still to open eyes,
Oh to blame light, but not be wise.
Religion's a way to be spiritual,
It's beckon of light, rites nor ritual!
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Reflections | 19.11.18 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good wisdom expressed here. I agree with that.
Thank you, you seem to have that eye to see, Hand Vr.