Temples and idols can hardly reduce my anxiety;
hymns and prayers can hardly reduce my tension;
meditation can hardly reduce my frustration...
When I get a pen and a piece of paper,
my anxiety is burnt into ashes,
my tension sublimes into ether,
my frustration fades like a setting sun...
This world seems to be a monastery,
where I sing in peace
and dance with happiness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem