The load on my brain I set aside;
Thus little disturbance remains there;
In silence and perfect composure I meditate...
...on the cherishing melodious tunes...
...coming constantly from heaven;
I don't have to bother to strum over the strings of any lute;
There's a divinely breeze sweeping over the strings;
And the divine lute plays itself without my effort.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem