In the dark a lamp-flame I keep lighting;
A lamp-flame I keep lighting.
The matchstick is Yours; the lantern is Yours also;
You are the ghee and wick; of me there is nothing.
For making the contact, a matchstick I am holding;
Oh Most Beloved, that too is a speck of mercy.
The "I" that is called mine, even though noticed nearby,
In hard times I find it not in company.
Lord from time out of mind and eternal Master,
You've been creating a teeming world to rule over;
Round me You are creating, and You are along always;
A song to the triumph of You only do I sing.
A lamp-flame I keep lighting.
The matchstick is Yours; the lantern is Yours also;
You are the ghee and wick; of me there is nothing.
For making the contact, a matchstick I am holding;
Oh Most Beloved, that too is a speck of mercy.
The "I" that is called mine, even though noticed nearby,
In hard times I find it not in company.
Lord from time out of mind and eternal Master,
You've been creating a teeming world to rule over;
Round me You are creating, and You are along always;
A song to the triumph of You only do I sing.
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A blessed instrument for Your work, I am here to magnify Your glory.
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