Bliss, bliss
You are the bliss, my dear
You are the abode of bliss
And I know, You are not the cause of pain.
I suffer pain as
I have a desire for pleasures.
Pleasures is born of pain
And ends in pain.
Pleasures born of contacts
And only source of pain.
He, who enjoy pleasures
Has to suffers pain.
Mind it, You are saying me
This world is not for pleasures
And also not the cause of pain.
This world is changing every moment
And this change is to enable us
To progress and not to provide us pain.
Mind it, my dear, You are saying again
Desire for pleasure is constant enemy
Pleasures are born of evils
If you are wise
You can perceive flaws.
Pleasure is not here for ever
But I am here, You are saying,
And look, I am living happily.
To get happy in life
Resist the impulses born out of desire
And anger, O my dear,
Then only there is bliss, bliss and bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem