The truth is the hardest nut to crack,
Cowards triumph over ego's lands,
While the wises in peace embark.
The shadowy bones with lump of flesh,
Craze love's appetite in the mess,
And daily death accumulates inertia.
Denouncement of the fire of flesh and wealth,
With complete negation of senses' appeal,
And with Guru's furrow the inner land's till.
The subtle Divine, awakens and rises,
The image of the devotee stands as prize,
To taste and feel, the Great soul's deal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem