The Brahman is without form and at the same time with form,
When the Mother Divine Kali, -ceases her actions, she keeps seeds,
Of Her creations in a colossal urn, -and herself turns in to Black-hole,
The concept of Universe, takes birth from bigger Sun, that gets burnt,
And find home in black caves, and measureless time waits to activate,
New creations and new biological sets, as rebirth of life on the earth,
Initiates, perpetuates, and gets destroyed, as Mother Kali Wishes.
Mother Kali makes love with Time and creates ages and climes,
She herself become man, woman, animal, and vegetation,
The sky, water, the earth, -and the parameter of day and night,
Her play-ground is illusion, where sorrow, hopes, love, dwell,
Universe is simply an idea of the diameter and amplitude of creation,
In the centre of gravity, as quanta nucleus holds, black-hole stands,
Behind the apparent, that sense and brain, assume, remains Brahman,
And Mother Kali, -expands and contracts, -through creation and black holes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem