In moving mill
Grains are ground
Near rivet are
Not pulverized.
In time-cycle
I am crushed
Suffered and
Follow a cycle of
Birth and death.
Th grains remain near rivet
Without making any effort
I by having disinclination
For the world take refuge
At your feet, O my dear
Show me right path
You are my only love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem