From path to path for You I search–
At forest and mountain, on the bank of river,
At many a holy place, by mistake or on purpose.
Filling eyes, I have wanted to observe.
Yourself incarnate, nowhere did I find;
Cradle of consciousness, nowhere did it arise.
Moving about mechanically and incessantly,
I've called out with eyes streaming in torrents.
Upon eyes keeping a cloth for binding,
I have gone on making days of penance and fasting.
The one for Whom everything's made ready,
I did not seek Him within.
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If my path has been arduous, who has really been at fault?
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