On this sunny morning,
This same morning,
All the pain, the frustrated-anguish,
At whose magic does it disappear?
You have come today on a stream of light,
The seven-horsed chariot at time of sunrise...
Making the world full by a lustrous shine,
You did not remain in hiding or in secrecy.
Everybody wants You with utmost sincerity,
At effusive heart's niche hard-to-reach...
Not in floral garden but in grove of psyche,
With immortal song of sweetness overflowing.
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Your advent elicits the best in us.
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