Men, we're going to heaven someday;
We should boast of that all the way
The fairest business in temples we see
Coaxing the world with basis of spirituality.
To a fibber's teeth, Lies are sweet;
A discourse of new tricks if they meet
Spiritual path is a faller for the weak,
A way to be like thus making you unique.
But as for mere assumptions of the mind
New inventions to be, truths left behind;
Ignore ignorance, claiming to be the lord;
Pardon the monk uttering not even a word.
Why are we worried or concerned most;
About what a droplet of rain will cost?
Forgive him invoking the deads yonder
And they, looking down into a cups of water.
Unpracticed knowledge is a disgrace;
And bitter shame to its claimer's face
Can the ocean or sea runs dry?
Would an eye just pass it by?
Trust, maybe a poet, trust them well;
Poets like me won't ring a false bell
And won't craft a lie like a muscle show,
For I've never written things I never know.
@09; 05; 2021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully done. Nice poetry. Thanks for sharing.