A bee can never become a flower,
and the arrows stay as arrows even after reaching the aim.
We are returning from Thee with all our spikes and spears Mother!
Without ever returning back
Like salt dolls placed in water
When we can join Thee Mother!
I looked into myself with a hope to behold a
mine of virtues to boast of Mother!
But alas! to describe the children of barren woman
seemed an easier task.
And I came to know
How best the beauty of caterpiller
and the song of an ass
and the voice of a crow can be praised.
But, having known this, how can I dare to look at Thee Mother!
The mysterious ghost of story books that
threaten the bid has its existence in reality?
Can one distrust the castles in the sky or can he break the horns of a hare?
Can one pluck flowers from trees that exist only in his imagination
May be, I can do all these and more but reaching
Thy Lotus feet is becoming a job more difficult Mother.
Even when there are diamonds, can one cross the
Ocean with a heavy sack of them tied to his neck?
Can one climb Everest carrying a marble statue,
Just because the statue is so beautiful?
Likewise, I am trying to reach Thee Mother,
Carrying the sack-loads of ignorance and
foolishness, taking them to be virtue and knowledge.
I know that these will lead me to peril but I am
unable to shake myself free Mother! Kindly free
me from this load Mother and let me come to Thee.
Can a fly fly to Heaven?
Can a fish know the depth af the sea?
Can a young one know her Mother’s age?
I too don’t know who you are, in truth, save that
you are my mother,
And I don’t know how to worship Thee Mother!
(Translated into English by the author Ed.)