Open up, open up
Why do you shrink to narrowness?
Opening up is the life
You become me, I be you
You are not there on the banks
Not even in the body
At the time of leaving the bank.
I am no truth
nor you are
Truth is thy
Who is eternal,
Will be there till eternity
Whatever we play
The sixty four kinds of juxtapositions
All these are destined
Through our deeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem