Beauty has no definition nor form
What is fair to you is foul to me
And what is fair to me is foul to you.
I love the warm rain pouring down from the running clouds
And I surrender to the magic of its subtle patters.
Inebriated, wet and warm, life thrills in me
And slowly blazes to a bonfire.
I am a poet, older than the crazy run of time, and transcendental
And I fantasize in creating.
At a sweep of my thoughts, worlds andcivilizations rise and fall
Stars stud the dark sky
Planets bounce in empty space
Suns rise and Suns set.
Into my concoction, I throw in grains of wisdom and colours
Smiles and tears, anger and peacefulness
Love and violence.
A bit of sunset and a bit of sunshine,
A splash of the babbling brook
Some scented flowers of the dew drenched valleys,
Add glows of tender star lights, and I stir.
Space, universes, world emerge, sprout and spread?
Know it whoever will
Love it whoever will.
I am the beginning and I am the end.
I am love, I am wisdom and I am ecstasy!
I am good and I am evil.
The glory of all glories, I am sunshine and I am darkness.
Choose my sunny side and inherit endless heritage of happiness
From my dark side, tears follow.
Pull your curtains of lgnorance
And the stars of hope and light
The space, infinite and wondrous are a breath away.
Catch the marvel of my mystery, I dance
Fanning planets and starlight in the darksome space
An ecstatic dance of ceaseless creation!
Listen to my roar in the turbulent ocean
My laughter in the rowdy gales
The sounds of my transcendental flute
Watch my glory in the sunset
And my joy in sun rise.
Seek my peace in the untroubled ocean of serenity in thine own heart!
I never cease to give.
Seek me, the eternal giver and find in me eternal repose
Those who are contented with taking what I give end in heartbreaks
For my gifts are ephemeral.
Seek me alone, child
And be for ever happy!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I never cease to give. Seek me, the eternal giver and find in me eternal repose Those who are contented with taking what I give end in heartbreaks For my gifts are ephemeral. Seek me alone, child And be for ever happy.. Fine poetry