May be your children live far away from you
And you live in a folorn cloister
May be you are leading a life amidst poverty and dishonour
May be you are old and sick
If you know that your children are honest and sincere
If you know that their lives are an offering to humanity and Nature
You are in perfect bliss
Even if you are harassed and insulted
If you have to live in ignominy
In the deserts of Sahara or the cold of Bharkhayanask
Wherever you go whatever befalls you
A peace presides over your being
Yourself a saint as it were
If you know that your son
Wherever he might live
Is as wise as Plato as truthful as Socrates
As selfsacrificing as Albert Schwitzer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem