You had risen in which days of yore;
You set aside slumber's torpor.
The whole cosmos You did harbor
By a flow of mercy.
I cannot understand;
Imagining does not succeed.
I had floated on a stream of thought
With a blossom of Your love.
Day and night I go unanchored,
In a contemplation of Thee.
Whatever stones of path abide,
Sorrow, pain, joy, or delight,
However much my foes may smile,
Like blemish of dry cow patty,
All of it do I scorn;
I will surely attain Thee.
Sarkarverse article
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