With sweet and charming thought, hey Shyam,
Please enter my contemplation.
My psychic Jamuna has dried up;
Do give it Your loving touch.
My bud has fallen down, not blossoming,
The sun and light not coating.
Nectar has evaporated, not exuding,
Kept in check by a hundred afflictions.
I had thought that You, nearby having come,
You will tell something, having loved.
With mind felicitated, having smiled a-soft,
Even now the path I'm watching in expectation.
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Even in Your absence abides a correspondence.
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