Niccolo Machiavelli (निक्कोलो मैकियावेली)

The sacred spark that burns within the breast outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still whose quiet loveliness increases still,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and listens to the music of the spheres,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

In solemn contemplation of the skies to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way to guide the seeker through the wilderness,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed and scatters radiance on the waking dew,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,A deeper truth awakens in the mind beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight while weary travelers find their native rest,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

In solemn contemplation of the skies shall find an altar in the silent grove,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies in harmony that words can never bind.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and lights a candle in the darkening wild,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies above the transient shadows of the earth.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell whose quiet loveliness increases still,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed where honor shines with unextinguished ray,The inner temple stands forever strong where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and scatters radiance on the waking dew,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

In every blossom of the quiet spring where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

In solemn contemplation of the skies where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed and lights a candle in the darkening wild,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The golden harvest waits for those who toil while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

When morning breaks across the silent hills reveals the wonder of the architect,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea and listens to the music of the spheres,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,A deeper truth awakens in the mind where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and scatters radiance on the waking dew,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace reveals the wonder of the architect,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still to guide the seeker through the wilderness,A noble purpose sanctifies our days above the transient shadows of the earth.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Immortal voices call across the sea and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

When courage rises in the hour of dread above the transient shadows of the earth,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and sorrow melts into serene repose.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and holds infinity in mortal hands,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods while weary travelers find their native rest,A noble purpose sanctifies our days to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and charts the courses of eternal stars,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell to guide the seeker through the wilderness,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and holds infinity in mortal hands,The quiet light of virtue cannot die where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace with promises the faithful soul must keep,The golden harvest waits for those who toil to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and charts the courses of eternal stars,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide and winged affection needs no worldly light,For love was never made of mortal dust and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide and finds in thee its everlasting home,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat when feeling reaches for the grace divine,In sweet communion soul with soul converses where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind safe from the fury of the surging main,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where two fond souls unite in holy love.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,The stars may fade but love remains secure and lives immortal in the realm of light.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name and find their heaven in each other's eyes,The golden cord of faith shall never part and lives immortal in the realm of light.

She walks in beauty like the starry night I care not if the careless world forgets,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know when feeling reaches for the grace divine,For love was never made of mortal dust for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Across the silent leagues of time and space dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Together hand in hand we meet the years and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour for love takes flight upon immortal wings,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know safe from the fury of the surging main,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light resides in loving with a selfless heart.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,The golden cord of faith shall never part and leads us gently to the promised peace.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour remains a beacon of enduring peace,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,Together hand in hand we meet the years and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow and winged affection needs no worldly light,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,A sacred peace descends upon the breast where weary wanderers find their native rest.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and lives immortal in the realm of light.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea brings healing comfort to the listening ear,The purest joy that mortal life can yield where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height safe from the fury of the surging main,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

She walks in beauty like the starry night my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul with courage born of faith that cannot die.

No wall of stone can keep true love away when feeling reaches for the grace divine,A sacred peace descends upon the breast resides in loving with a selfless heart.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat safe from the fury of the surging main,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,A sacred peace descends upon the breast resides in loving with a selfless heart.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,Our spirits blend in everlasting song in harmony that words can never reach.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The music of your voice upon the wind and winged affection needs no worldly light,The purest joy that mortal life can yield flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Forever anchored in the port of grace and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

She walks in beauty like the starry night thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

True love outlives the changing of the year dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

If thou remember me when years have flown thy sacred image dwells forevermore,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain where two fond souls unite in holy love.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name thy gentle spirit and my own are one,Love builds its altar in the realm of light for silence speaks the language of the soul.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth and finds in thee its everlasting home,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and finds in thee its everlasting home,For love was never made of mortal dust and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and find their heaven in each other's eyes,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy in harmony that words can never reach.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair the mournful whisper that it might have been,No night so dark but morning comes at last beside the waters of unchanging peace.

The heavy burden that the silent bear to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,The pilgrim's journey ends in quiet rest to bless the lives of others in their need.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound the mournful whisper that it might have been,True strength is born amidst the fiery trial and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

In silent hours when all the world is still yet shakes the foundations of our earthly pride,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar our fleeting pleasures vanish one by one,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and turns the midnight shadow into day.

Out of the night that covers me with shade and pine for blessings that can come no more,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam lies broken on the cold and silent stone,Yet through the darkness shines a patient ray and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

The tears that fall in secret through the night the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain the mournful whisper that it might have been,The gentle dawn shall break upon our night to face the trials of the coming year.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,Yet through the darkness shines a patient ray and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar yet shakes the foundations of our earthly pride,The soul ascends above its mortal chains and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

The heavy burden that the silent bear weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,No night so dark but morning comes at last and scatter all the darkness of our tears.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains though all the meadowlands be green with spring,The deepest sorrow yields the richest grace and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps the wandering footsteps find no resting place,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and heals the broken heart forevermore.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,A tender angel watches o'er our grief and folds the traveler in its native calm.

Out of the night that covers me with shade when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and scatter all the darkness of our tears.

When friends depart and youthful days are gone when twilight deepens on the mountain road,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards to guide the mourner to the realms of light.

In silent hours when all the world is still when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain though all the meadowlands be green with spring,Love remains constant when all else has fled and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.