(482) Ogo prabhu tomar dekhi e kii liila
Oh Lord, while we observe Your stunning play,
Alone behind its screen, You lie in wait.
You gave the dark of night and its carnival of stars;
You gave the moon's smile that made restive our hearts.
You gave severe summers and a heat that burns;
You gave juhi jasmine[1] and its fragrant garlands.
You gave thorn-filled gardens, hard to perambulate;
And, in them, You made the rose blossom at daybreak.
On Your own, how do You create so many games?
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