The Supreme

(2961)  Malaya parashe kusuma suvase

Now, at touch of southern breeze and flower-scent sweet,
With mental glee the Bee intones.
That flow of song, with tune and tempo filled,
To far azure it moves afloat.

The scope also, it is not His;
And no time limit is supported.
His, the dance in beat and rhythm;
On both crest and trough ambrosia molts.

Glazing honey, come along with that Bee
In acquaintance and perplexity, external and at deeps.
Clutching constantly, Him I hold in thinking
Such that missing never He does go.

Sarkarverse article
Audio recording