(544) E kii tomari liila tomari khela
Oh what is this, Your divine sport, Your game!
Despite Your being great, inside each atom You reside;
Even as a raft of form You sail, formless You remain.
In refreshing winds or in the depths of mind,
In flower pollen or in the blue-blue sky...
On reflection, I find nowhere that You are absent;
You worry anyone engaging in such speculation.
Your love is limitless and perpetual;
Both big and small You exalt.
So don't discriminate; onto Your lap please take,
Your gentle lotus-hand dispensing grace.
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Knowing that He makes no exception does not ease the yearning.
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