Love makes a difference to those who aid,
Like a river running forward to sea;
Any human who has love comes again free,
With greatest of power one can't evade.
To give by oneself, later is all paid,
It is the true goal inside you and me;
To win one with care and love without plea,
Sword of your willingness - two folded blade.
Precious small charity you are to give,
Shall live in loved ones after you are gone;
Growing the roots, that demolishes the stone.
What then remains, is what you raised to live,
Generates love, memories carries on;
Beginning as whisper, end as high tone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem