(634) Daruna nidagha tape
From the scorching summer heat
Creepers shudder out of grief;
And, likewise, my bloom is seared.
With Your touch, the rain You bring;
You deluge the dried-up stream...
You make a spring flow endlessly.
Listen, listen to my sad story...
Don't inflict more pain on me;
Don't You know my bosom's aching?
Your heart, it is adamantine,
Devoid of any feeling...
You've enjoyed making me weep!
If like mine Your heart had been,
You would have seen so very many
Distressed creatures in utter agony.
Accept my thousand curtsies please,
All kneeling at Your holy feet.
Have mercy on me, oh Heart-Thief.
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Often it feels like He's not paying attention. Somehow that sense tends to draw Him near.
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