Touching upon silence of a garden growing, capturing the
attention of this poet, a song being sung from heavenly
abodes and raining down upon intellect unceasingly.
Captivating intellect in timely moments of innocence, a
purity remaining from above for nothing can come between
heaven and thoughts being written incessantly.
Quietly, senses are being filled interiorly with their un-
bridled gifts of love, caring and mercy from above, find-
their way into literature in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem