Hanging on a thread

(215)  Tava asa pathe kan pete pete

With an ear to the path of Your arrival,
I have kept alert age after age.
Of the garland You gave me—
Of the garland You gave me, only thread remains;
All the flowers have fallen away.

Days come and go—
Days come and go in the game of time;
And, by a dark magic, denser the nights grow.
Yet, ever and always do I—
Ever and always do I gaze all around,
Counting the minutes of each passing hour.^[1]

Of this attentive waiting—
Of this attentive waiting and arduous minute counting,
Lord, please tell me when will there be an end.

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