(1378) Pather bhule ele cale
Losing Your way, You came walking,
King of kings, into my dwelling.
On Your feet, dust has adhered;
And Your reddish visage beams.
Feeling that Your feet are rosy,
Over ages I go without sleep.
Always Your grace I beseech,
Just for the sake of serving Thee.
Privately, inside my psyche,
In a recess was that yearning.
To Your mercy's melody,
You played upon my heartstrings.
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Unmerited but at long last, my ardor of lifetimes is satisfied.
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