Am I jealous, O Man of Literature?
Thou art in life more blessed than I am;
Thine life is spent with joy as a Teacher,
Akin a frolicking, discontent, Lamb.
Thou art afree of stresses that meet me;
I play the role of healing people sick;
I can't escape life’s pain and misery;
My time is lost when burns the candle-wick!
Yet, people feel I am one far greater,
Not realising despair within me;
Tho' a Doctor, God is the one Healer;
I am His vassal; He, the remedy.
Oh, how 1 wish to lead a simple life!
Far from the stress and bitterness of strife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem