Thursday, April 11, 2024

Ignorance and longing

(2973)  Bhuvane raye gecho gopane

Secretly You've remained in the cosmos;
Oh so abstruse is Your sport!
You do not approach, why– who knows;
Game You make of many colors.

With eyes full of hope I pine;
To see somewhere, I don't find.
Like a musk deer, upon woodland path race I;[1]
I don't know why You make me anxious.

You stay beyond the range of language;
On thought's pollen You coat nectar.
In both joy and sorrow, You keep a constant watch;
How You go on alone, I don't fathom.

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