Thursday, May 13, 2021

Why leave once I believe?

(1903)  Alor rather sarathi mor

Oh my driver of light's chariot,
You don't observe, no word You say...
Toward whom have You raced off,
Whose affliction to assuage?

Piercing pores in darkness gloomy,
Wagon races onward endlessly,
Like the sun's seven hues,
Having sliced through jewel's nature.

Singular is the aim of everybody;
Is there any other Charioteer?
Path You recognize, cart You ken;
Only after You comes reliance.

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