(813) Sab priitite pran bharecho
With every joy, life You've infused;
Who does not feel it, who does not feel it?
With every song, You've brought the tune;
Who does not hear it, who does not hear it?
When nothing existed, the world but intent,
Utter gloom was there, not a celebration.
You gave a pulse to endless nighttime
With the dream of a cascade of light.
Good and bad, weal and woe, the fragrance of flowers,
Earth's ashen dust, and chirps of the tattler,
Existing amid the void, with Your first work
You descended into the realm of conception.
Hearing of You, thinking of You, giving You mind,
That carries me through any perilous night.
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Life is a mystery in which He plays all the parts.
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