Yourself I hold dear;
This, though known, do You know it not?
In hope of Your advent I stay waiting;
Musing at an idle moment, do You see it not?
Just for You is my life;
With Your tune alone, world of mine.
On the far horizon at thought's frontier,
Only getting You is my sadhana.
What I crave and what I don't request,
In Your presence it is not suppressed.
All my yearning having painted red,
With Your hue the psyche, You fill it not.
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Having made me yearn for Thee, why don't You want me?
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