Thursday, October 2, 2025

To be with Thee



(3488) Ami genthechi malatiimala

A garland of malatii have I threaded;
Arrayed is the wicker basket.[1]
At the feast of life with hope's wine,
My burning pain I've forgotten.

Wherever I look, except for You naught is there;
Alas, in agony, I don't manage to cling.
But in my whole universe, on azure of sky,
I realize: lavished is Your fondness.

On a golden mountain peak are You, my Darling.
I am dropped down inside a cavern very deep...
Having been brightened by Your light-beams,
On account of You become restless. 

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