He who has no death
Was never born,
But lives in the streets
Where the cobra moves freely
And dares to tread on the feet
Of children and where temple bells
And lamps and chants alleviate
Regenerate…
In the holy abandon
And green restraint.
Very vivid. You are a fine word painter. Always your friend at poemhunter, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A superb blend of the spiritual and the down to earth. The first four lines are a poem in themselves. Glorious wordplay. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥