A candle burns within the shadowed room,
Its tiny flame defies the gathering night;
Though darkness stretches wide, it cannot gloom
The soul that holds its flicker to the light.
Each step becomes a path both seen and dreamed,
A bridge between the mortal and divine;
In whispered prayers, the quiet truth is gleaned—
The spark of heaven waits where hearts incline.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem