It is the mind that with everything nice,
sweet and soothing adorns us.
It is the mind that makes us mourn.
Two sides of the same coin, yet poles apart,
we have in ourselves our own haunting hell
and heaven of our freedom.
The more we meditate,
churn it with care and concern,
the more better butter of pleasant
and pleasing experience we gain
and spread everywhere the fragrance
of our good will, love and compassion.
Love begets love,
and ill-will torments us, makes us suffer
and in meaningless fight or regret
gets us involve.
26/06/ 2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem