The moon's light does not feel good;
Darling, You did not arrive.
What serves a fish wearing a pearl coronet,
If cozy nest be not acquired.
Today the bed of thorns is my dress;
Mixing with lasya there is shyness.
Eyes shed tears, heart-and-mind's pithy essence,
What is this to which You gave rise!
Celestial moon is not of use to me;
Moon of the mind-sky I'd find near.
Thoughts seething, I keep singing
In a tune, rhythm, metric time.
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I know what I want and need... it is You only.
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