You came not at my invitation, by grace You appeared;
I have gone on calling, my own mind to appease.
Via speech You came not, by thought You appeared;
Singing praise and flattery cannot make You blink.
Nearest and most intimate, You are the sweetest;
You know everything, and yet You listen, Dearest.
Having rid the misty fog of my egotism,
Embrace to grant, You stand ready.
Whatever praise or flattery or prayer that I do,
It's to please and get You near, my Lord Vishnu.
Having grasped my foolishness, view wretchedness too;
Upon my consciousness, sweetness kindly smear.
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Everything is Your mercy; hence, Your grace I beseech.
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