What is existing
Who is going
How all these are happening
No one can say correctly
At any time.
All are saying
They are running after
Golden deer that is there
Before the eyes in the forest
Of life and yet singing pastimes.
Separating night from day
They arrived and said
It is possible to go anywhere
At a click of pursuing mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem