Must be a mistake

(2617)  Diiner kutiire tumi ese gele

When You came unto a poor one's shack,
Date and way forgotten, the why I know not.
There's no fruit of virtue or power of sadhana;
This is the unmerited compassion.

What I could not ever imagine,
Gave You that today; in life it did happen.
To a devotee lax grace, affectionately granted.
Crying eyes You can't stand.

A throat ever-calling has become decrepit;
Night and day in Your meditation have I wept.
Now, taking pity, along a road erroneous
Came You, the all-pervading fount of effulgence.

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