Words cannot express

(47)  Kuinjavanete guinjaranete

In the bower with their humming,
Honeybees, which words would they speak?
They want to speak, oh yes, they want to speak.

On the strings of heart's lute,
The mystics, what ache would they make heard?

As many feelings as have been, so much speech is not;
As many yearnings as have been, so much skill is not.
And so all greatness and all glory,
At Your feet, prostrate they wish to be!

Stainless or blemished, every lotus
Wants to be in a vase offered to Thee.

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