You give such delight

(2547)  Megh esechilo

Clouds had appeared
In Your light's many colors.
They had vanished, ever drifting
On a southern breeze with honeyed touch...
Danced had the peacock of psyche.

In the mind whatever blemish had been there,
Over course of ages it had been increased.
By the majesty of love, Your glamor exquisite,
It had been defeated extensively.

The world You delighted, oh Divine Tunesmith;
While adorning stealthily, You are an Artist.
On strings of the veena with melodic clamor,
It had fallen, what sweet beauty!

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