Obeisance had I made known
By way of songs aplenty.
That style of motivity was my only wealth;
With keynotes and melody it was replete.
I know not if You've managed to hear or not;
I don't care a jot if to hear You did not want.
Bringing forth all of life's ambrosia,
I am pouring it at Your lotus feet.
Unfailing Your reputation, a love perpetual;
Undying Your abode, a splendor ethereal.
And so to You I sing a hymn incessant,
Having forgotten all and any vanity.
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It is my path; it matters not if You listen or hear.
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