My smile, when I smile, reflects your beauty,
The cradle of creation.
The air, though unseen, brings harmony
To the balance of creation, so ethereal.
You are the template on which all beings are molded;
Apart from you, nothing exists—
All is fashioned from what you have made.
Should I call you Nature,
Or the one who created Nature?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem