Though stones are available in plenty.
the philosopher’s stone is rare;
Though water and milk can be had everywhere
nectar cannot be had;
Just like Thy feet which elude me
Mother, leaving me poor admidst my wealth.
Can a lamp give light to its owner
and darkness to others?
Can a tree give its shade to one who waters it
and refrain from giving shade to one
who brings an axe to fell it?
Can sugar-cane be sweet to its owner and sour
to one who crushes it?
Can mind stay still and silent when someone’s
singing at a nearby place?
Will you be angry with me Mother if I could
not reach Thy lotus feet?
Will the mighty ocean be angry with the foolish
raindrops that waste themselves
on the sand, Mother?