Wednesday, March 7, 2018


(913)  Diva nishi mor ankhi jhare

Day and night my eyes shed tears,
Only due to You, Lord, on account of Thee.
I don't love You, but still so much You love me;
How it happens, Lord, it's a mystery.

Suffused with morning's crimson hue
Are my psychic piles of gloom.
In summer's scorching heat, the salve that's smeared,
Like cooling sandalpaste is Your blessing on me.
Only alongside You do I survive;
And so toward You I gaze time after time.

When with dark clouds the days are dancing
And a chilling thrill my heartbeat receives,
In that same state Your rousing voice I hear;
Resounding inside, my heart rises replete.

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