The false gods, greedy godfathers,
And one thousand fabricated,
Sayings and predictions stand,
Between The Truth and me.
The books of guidance
Reduced to books of magic,
And the manuals of mantras and rituals
The divine commandments forgotten!
The sacred tablets put in hard covers,
On dusty shelves!
Few of us know what the prophets had told.
No Prophet, no Imam can visit us again,
Waiting for Godot, and Godot will never come!
Burdened with disbelief and great sins,
Blinded by lack of knowledge and wisdom,
Out of the fear of retribution,
The sinners wait and cry for saviors,
Although their forefathers had lost them,
In their lifetimes.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem