Where emanates the music
Of life with its metre and rhythm,
Filling the hollow place
With majestic music heard ever.
If the Sun and Moon become the lamps,
O my Lord! Put me there forever.
Centuries after centuries have been passing
Away with their great uproar,
I don't want knowledge,
I don't want to be pundit,
I only want to listen the music
Of Nature flowing forever.
Lying upon the cradle of soft green grass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem