Monday, October 15, 2018

Racing joyously toward Him

(1129)  Vasante anu anute

In the Spring, for atoms each and every,
On what stream did You keep giving them a swing?
At core of tune after tune,
What sorcery did You imbue?

A drunken atmosphere, it speaks of what craving?
In the music what is missing, and what is received?
Silently and secretly,
On sweet night Your touch You kept applying.

What I've lost, that I have left behind;
What I've found, it lifts and fills the mind.
My avid heart's outpouring
Won't be held shrouded by any means.

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