When this path originated, You had come;
The vista was awash with blossoms.
Frenzied by the scent, psyche had risen up;
Afloat had been a poetic current.
That bakul-lane, still today it is crossed;
But with dust have mixed floral petals cast off.
Unto where is going, vanishing, the aroma?
Everyone has forgot what indeed had been.
The bakul trees until today are living;
With history, they have gone on weeping.
Tear-soaked, the avenue, it has kept singing:
Is there not a one, did no one persist?
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Tuesday, January 11, 2022
Is this world now without love
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Krsna and His devotees, where have they gone?
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