The world is maya, moha
And it is difficult to cut the bonds of illusion,
The cobwebs of maya,
This house, family, life and world,
All are but the things of maya, moha,
Illusion, hallucination and infatuation for
And one is trapped into its cobwebs,
It is difficult to get out of it; to discern, dispel and discard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem