He said,
‘Ego is a difficult path’,
so I unburden myself of it.
He didn’t say,
“Unburdening is more difficult.”
So I try, trying is trying.
I don’t know if a rock can think,
feel or burden itself with ego,
I will never know.
If it does indeed,
would want to be a fine statue,
like the Sphinx in Egypt
majestic in the stillness of sand,
or the frolic in a courtesan’s muslin
be her contour for ever,
a venerated idol in the venerated alter
not taken by the marauder.
We know not for sure,
a rock can think, I doubt,
unburden itself off the ego;
but by
the eccentricity of providence,
be the less difficult path
spread over the arduous miles
in a well travelled road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i am really burdened after reading your poem, by trying to unburden the burden.....