Knowing You does not happen.
Any time I think I am getting acquainted,
That sensation gets enveloped by darkness.
Your kettle drum has kept resounding;
Inside You the flower-pollen is smiling.
After all is said and done, privately I see
That by Your grace everything is existent.
I possess not a thing to call "mine";
Even the thought, "my", that is just a crime.
You alone belong to me, and everything is Thine;
Everybody prays for Your kindness.
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When this is not our body, when this is not our mind, why should we have vanity?
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