(1182) Tumi uttal sindhute naco
You dance upon the surging sea.
To hold You I cannot proceed;
With high waves You are ringed.
Yourself everybody wants but cannot get easily;
They rush forth to grasp and turn back in fear;
Had You but wished, You'd have let them reach.
Scriptures I am reading and their explanation hearing,
Ample pilgrimages I am taking,
Still I don't find You; yet, having made You mine,
I see You've been hiding in the mind.
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Have I been tilting at a windmill?
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