Our fate defines the way we live,
So search for the divine court where
Living dissolves in front of you,
Miracles dine on your head at the other end.
The singing in the heart is what I hear
Again and again, like metered poems
And sung literature, the voices start
To deliver their internal reckoning.
So heavy is the heart that it alone dies,
The intelligent man is succumbing to you,
The whole powerful crowd remark on this
Distinct being called You the questioner.
The earth is spread before me when I die,
A moon is caught by the throat and eaten,
Then the sun begins to fall into the darkness,
And soon my light is extinguished due to the One.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem