Spring air is coming here.
Tender wind is touching my hair.
I put my stare on everywhere.
I feel the unity; no more nightmare.
Soul is living in its world of wonder.
It doesn’t afraid if there’s lightning or a thunder.
All fears are under; my True Self is my funder.
It’s my own temple. It has no chance to blunder.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That's really a great stuff, Sensuelle Briden. While the first stanza laid down the foundation of a practical philosophy, the second one raises an edifice for a perfect life upon it. Thanks for sharing this very sweet, lovely and a meaningful poem.
Thanks for your response. I am glad that it has been resonated with you. I have a lot of revelations and realizations to share!