In front of each and everybody, You hold out a light;
Through knowledge intellectual, knowing You does not arise.
When I think that wise I've gotten,
Then I see that I'm in darkness.
Through surrender do I grasp: You are in the mind.
On a night of sorrow amid burning flames,
With mourning and with grief, with a heart pained,
Having been invited I behold: You are in mode clandestine.
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We might not see Him till the end; but, raising His guiding lamp before us, He is always here.
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