Thursday, March 9, 2023


(2568)  Phuler vane parii elo, gandhe matal kare dilo

Inside a flower's garden the Sprite entered,
And with scent He intoxicated.
Any bees that had been aslumber,
Wakened they came racing to the fragrance.

At depths of mind in the floral garden,
Constantly He had grinned.
With His smile on His reed pipe,
What a clatter He had sounded!

About Him I can't forget;
In the world is not His likeness.
Past imagination, beauty and virtue decked,
In my midst embrace had He granted.

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