Monday, November 18, 2019

It isn't much, but...

(1423)  Tomar amar bhalabasa

The friendship of Yours and mine–
One of us knows it; the other knows not.
Small to Great with love is tied–
One of us admits that; the other does not.

The garland is built with string of tiny flowers–
Dispensed and empty is love's wicker basket.[1]
Upon a small water-drop, the mighty sun–
Brightly it rises; but one of us sees that not.

A puny atom, the power it may possess–
Its innate intellect, that can never comprehend.
In a meager blossom, what honey does ripple–
In that alone is stored all mystic endeavor.

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