In which place do You reside;
In what guise do You stay dressed?
At my heart-core Your exposure,
Will it not ever happen?
Night and day, in meditation and in song,
I remember You with all my heart.
A bud of hope sways back and forth,
Should close You call asudden.
To call my own there's not a bit;
With Your all the world is filled.
I too am Yours, it's the true gist;
Far away knowingly, You neglect.
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My heart is Your true abode.
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