(431) Hrdayakamale eso mor
Lord, please appear in my heart-lotus.
You left, saying You'd return;
But too many a night has passed.
Now, no one is wearing flower garlands;
I too don't fasten one to my chignon.
In my dry eyes, the world has lost its beauty;
You've taken that grace away, oh Heart Thief.
In my mind, not a single song is sung;
Within mind's ambit, no tune is struck.
Beyond earshot they've all been removed;
Marooned am I in cloud-covered gloom.
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All sorrow derives from a sense of separation.
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