I have kept alit a lamp of clay;
Lord, in my clay house on this day,
Naught is there in the world to call it mine.
You are the sole essence I have realized.
There was nothing mine, no, not a bit...
Rapidly I've left behind the phantasm of expectation.
Aspiration or reluctance, success or defeat,
Raving and wailing, they but make me weep.
Alas, with a gentle breeze comes napping on the path;
The fragrance of flowers, it vanishes amid the past.
What I've seen with two eyes and what I've only daydreamed,
With all that, grant embrace inside budding psyche.
Lord, in my clay house on this day,
Naught is there in the world to call it mine.
You are the sole essence I have realized.
There was nothing mine, no, not a bit...
Rapidly I've left behind the phantasm of expectation.
Aspiration or reluctance, success or defeat,
Raving and wailing, they but make me weep.
Alas, with a gentle breeze comes napping on the path;
The fragrance of flowers, it vanishes amid the past.
What I've seen with two eyes and what I've only daydreamed,
With all that, grant embrace inside budding psyche.
I know You make it hard for good reason. Still, let me see You with eyes open.
ReplyDelete