You are the grass,
Grass is your hair.
O daughter of the earth,
The root of the tree is
chanting your name first.
I know, this light, here
is coming from you,
I am eager to hear about you,
And where are you,
You are at the root of all life.
Neither I am interested to go
in to your history nor to the geography,
I am only concerned with your ability
to establish truth here by your own light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
treat your daughter as goddess.