By Your flow of effulgence on the dark night,
Goes on playing such a kindly lyre.
Psyche races to a remote paradise in the sky–
Every moment, an attraction so sublime!
It does not abide friend or foe, far or nigh;
How and why it does so, this mind of mine?
It keeps floating to a shore speech-outside–
With thought surges heart, tender and mild.
Past the sea of form, on a form-free coastline,
Around the feet of God are belled anklets of light.
Tears streaming, contemplation dances out of delight–
It faints in course of time, beyond time, and aforetime.
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To reach the goal I must go past the sky and beyond mind.
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