No wheels of past, no ravages;
Recedes the history.
Still earth tears blood,
Torn in grief,
Shaken with fears: for
With sap of doubt, rays of desire
In soil of greed forms the Self—
Treasuring and consuming—
The Smaug—we slave for:
And our mind and heart, his kingdom,
And the Soul, which makes a complete Man,
Now is Other to Him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very good, introspective poem, Robbani. Thanks for sharing