His facial expressions were happiness
Contentment, and silence of solitude
The gentle look, a bowl in hand
Not looking in the bowl, but somewhere
His dresses were robe in light shades
The little rice or wheat people gave
Without looking what he received
Without any emotions of happiness
Or sorrow he walked along
Contentment in real life and happiness
Which he saw the greatness of world
Where money or material comes immaterial
The life is somewhat different here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem