Socrates

Although thy pen was silent, mute,

A sea of knowledge dire

In thee the world of yore had seized.

Thy voice was Spirituality’s fire.


All wealth and ease of the world sublime

Thy deeds were apt to disdain.

Therefore thy spouse, Xantippe,

Was tortured by a ceaseless pain.


Many a foe of giant cloud

Against thy knowledge stood.

But gloom saw its doom in thee

With thee thy high manhood.


From:Sri Chinmoy,Discoverers of Light, AUM Press, 1972
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/dsl