Friday, August 9, 2019

The Lord arrives

(120)  Sharadaprate mor ektarate

With one-stringed lute, early on autumn morn,
Scented by night-jasmine, mind has got rapt in song.
Neath a sweet and pleasant wind,
In this mortal world by dew made damp,
Earth has rushed ahead with cadence and dance.

Today on the path of light, from clouds there is no menace;
All the birds have spread their wings on the blue firmament.
With new zest for life in this unobstructed atmosphere,
To where has the overflowing heart gone floating?

Today the torrential rains have abated;
Emergent land-surface has put on new garments.
Betwixt earth and heaven, tenderly adorned in bliss,
Who are You, gave up Yourself, in everybody's presence?

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