Wednesday, June 9, 2021

The supreme shelter and protector

(1928)  Arun tomar ruperi liilay

Morning Sun, with your divine play of form only,
A surging ocean starts overflowing.
One speck of that form rises from sleep,
And ten million of the sky's nebulae sing.

Hey Makeup Artist, what is this you are doing!
You have filled the world with love's sea.
Into form and yet transcendent you are stooping;
You have gone dancing in the study of beauty.

In Liila's game your peer is not there;
You make the three realms[1] laugh and cry constantly.
Musing on that state, I don't attain profundity:
Sheltered I've arrived, dependent on mercy.

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1 comment:

  1. On the morning sun I rely; but I do not worship it. Sun works per higher direction.