Saturday, April 13, 2024

Your prodigal son

(2975)  Sadher malakhani enechi

A selected garland I have brought,
Because, Lord, I will make You wear it.
From the mental realm blooms have I culled;
On string of love in solitude I've threaded.

On that I've smeared the sandal of heart-core;
Lavishly I've conferred all the nectar of my bosom.
Effusive become, I've been waiting at the door
To hear a footfall every single minute.

Don't frustrate me, look with eyes of kindness;
Awaken a fresh flood-tide in a life afflicted.
From my mind obliterate what is good or wicked;
I have come away from the peerless shelter.

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