Tired of waiting

(961)  Jadi alasa prahare more

If in Your own sweet time, about me
You should ever stop and think,
Just cast aside that memory;
Dismiss from mind that I love Thee.

For the sake of Thee my hair
I've braided and a garland strung.
Now, like a cobra lacking precious gem,^[1]
Bitterly I weep, with a burning sensation.
From Your golden chariot
I've descended, I am sunk.

Forget how many mornings bright
I've plucked flowers, You to beautify.
All sweetness has crossed limits mine,
It has been spent kissing the sky.

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