Uncultivated

(1549)  Madhumase mayakanane

In springtime, in a delusive grove
Have bloomed flowers, row after row.
Into them mind's nectar having poured,
He fits them out, full of love.

The champak bud that sneaks a peak,
It won't get hid by tender leaves.
The tiny bakul bloom and many-hued parul,
Eyes having opened, look around on all four sides.

Bela and Spanish jasmines give out scent;
Palash and red cottons with color overwhelm.
But ashoka buds, flown and grown in both worlds,
They peer upward, just for Him!

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