Consideration

(801)  Tumi amay bhalobesechile

You have loved me,
But I don't even look Your way.
You gave to me everything,
But I give nothing in exchange.

In the midst of pitch-dark fog,
Holding my hand, You've shielded me;
But on Your wounds from pathway thorns,
No liniment do I smear.

In sorrow and mishap, when my heart is tried,
The nectar of solace You have lavished;
But in Your workshop of cosmic sacrifice,
I don't contribute to Your service.

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