At an idle hour, with a kindly eye,
Master, You had gazed in direction mine.
With a rumbling wind, with sound nice,
On a hill of darkness You'd emanated light.
Again and again thunder's roar had happened;
Worldly life by lightning strike had been rent.
At lonesome retreat sweetly-charming having smiled,
With own hand, my eyelids You wiped.
Even though puny, I knew I'm not unattended;
Abed, dreaming, and awake, You are a friend.
Amid my sense of 'I', with regal pomp resides
Your ambrosial splendor of limitless time.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
You look at me, and I feel fine.
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