Touch me,
Touch me with your
Jasmine.
Kiss me,
Kiss me with your
Spring.
Feed me,
Feed me with your
Painting.
I am your feeling,
I am your holy living,
I am your flying
And I am here waiting,
Waiting to see you smiling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A thought of spirituality that is tainted with the need to gain praise from others. Poetry is not about borrowing verses from the Bhagwad Gita and translating them into English and subsequently submitting it as a Poem. I am sure there are other forums for spiritual thought appreciation that already carry this verse.