Distraction

(1209)  Tomar namer ruper melay

With a gala of Your names and forms,
You are cramming the whole universe.
Formless One, in Your play of beauty,
I fail to understand anything.

When I think that something is the finish,
Thereupon I see beginning's image.
Even after the end, there again is inception;
The wheel turns, kissing the vast firmament.

When about which is the best of all
Pondering, I get lost.
Afterward, there's still much more;
It appears, even more precious.

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