(1069) Toma tare mor kata vyatha
For Your sake, much labor is mine;
Don't You notice, don't You realize?
Always roving, night and day I seek;
Don't You observe, don't You perceive?
The very dawn of Creation, from that hour,
In want of You, on the road I've set out.
In my bed and dreaming, asleep or awake,
Do I sense a bit that with You I remain?
Through grass and shrubs, trees and ivy,
I move onward, ever searching.
In them I know You are hiding;
Tell me, why don't You permit detection?
That's no kindness, no compassion.
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