Old Friends
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I see my old friends here
The cows and the birds
The creepers and elephants
The trees and the mountains.
I see myself here
And I see and hear their welcome
I feel transcendental ecstasy
Liberation perfection.
What I see what I feel
Are true but not whole truth
Whole truth is get yourself free
From all desires designations.
O my friends, come
Let us convert ourselves
In to transcendental purity
By purified senses.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş