Sky calls through the cloud-rifts;
At intervals calls the wind.
In month of Bhadra's brimming heavens,
From the vista come fallen jasmine.
No more does the mind stay at home,
Incited by a vague Unknown,
And as there is no ban to go,
With bosom full and hindrance broke.
There is nectar in my psyche,
But its bearing Pilgrim is not near.
He has called from behind screen;
I don't grasp in which direction is He.
At intervals calls the wind.
In month of Bhadra's brimming heavens,
From the vista come fallen jasmine.
No more does the mind stay at home,
Incited by a vague Unknown,
And as there is no ban to go,
With bosom full and hindrance broke.
There is nectar in my psyche,
But its bearing Pilgrim is not near.
He has called from behind screen;
I don't grasp in which direction is He.
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I would like to pay a visit; but please tell me the location.
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