(403) Phagun masete phag niye kheli
In spring, I play with red powder;[1]
I do not play with fire.
Fires of the forest I smother;
Fires of the mind I don't ignite.
At the still of night in the flower garden,
Stealthily I move, making fragrance emanate.
In floral nectar's every atom,
Silently I cordially associate.
All hearts, in light and shadow,
I fill with love at every instant.
By moonlight, with smile of an infant,
I always bring ambrosia's flow.
I never cheat anybody.
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In spring we see His gracious face.
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