Love knows no boundaries,
it knows no race.
In it of malice
there is no
trace.
Love
knows no color,
even black is beautiful.
Loving is worshipping,
true love is dutiful.
Love is secret
bower of fragrance
overwhelms foul fumes.
All roughness melts away
and the mind is fine tuned.
Call it madness
Or call it a dream
Of clear consciousness
A flowing stream
Bliss flows in it
It knows no rules
It makes not fool
The lotus within
The divine pool
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem