The mystery

(504)  Jara ceyeche tomay kache

Those who've wanted You to be near,
In their eyes, why are there tears?
Everyone knows that You can hear;
So why then playfully deceive?

Your flute, Your smile, within the game—
In due course we all cry from this play.
You make oblivious with a glimpse of bliss;
You open up the luminous, one-hundred-petaled lotus.^[1]

I know that everyone is in Your mind
In their pleasure and their sorrow, secretly.
Privately, You laugh and cry
For one and all incessantly.

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