Magazine : Matrusri English
Language : English
Volume Number : 2
Month : April
Issue Number : 1
Year : 1967

Just as a drunkard could not distinguish his apparels;

 Just as a Painting does not know the weapon

 that it may be holding;

As an ox could not understand the volumes of philosophy

 that it may be carrying about,

And just as the small clouds move about with no apparent destination;

I could not understand Thy Love that is surrounding

me like light and breeze, Mother!

Like a shower of flowers on the thick hide of an elephant,

Thy call is not penetrating my thick hide, Mother!

 How can I help it Mother??


Though it may appear voluminous, a small wind

 Can disperse away any amount of smoke Mother!

Why doubtest Thou still, my sins are no more than

 smoke before Thy Wind, Mother!!


That I should be able to fill all my existence

 with Thee ere I become blind,

That I should dance before Thee ere I become a lame,

That I should spend all my time, each second of it,

 hearing Thy sweet words ere I turn deaf,

That I should serve Thy lotus feet ere I anı rendered

 helpless with some paralysis’ stroke,

Many are the fond wishes that I am nourishing along, Mother!

The only thing that I don’t know is how they are going to come to fruition.


If some cow got caught in slime, wilt Thou be

 descriminating about its usefulness

 before saving it, Mother?

If some one is getting drowned in a river, won’t

 Thou save him first whether he be a

 Brahmin or one of low caste?


Draw me to Thy feet Mother,

Then bind me securely to Thy feet, burn

 away my blemishes with Thy flame, Mother!

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