(1354) Bhalabasiyacho amay
To me You are showing fondness...
Merit You did not examine; You sat not in judgment;
You've observed with undeserved compassion.
Moon casts its light upon each worthy or unworthy head;
In every liquid lingers camphor scent.
Southern wind caresses even the scaly anteater;
How can anyone not gaze in that direction?
I was thinking that no one is loving me...
Weeping I am coming, and weeping I will leave in anguish–
For me there is just misery;
On earth's bosom it is writ.
Today I understood: I am not alone or helpless.
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Everybody has somebody all the time.
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