One who is in love with Thee,
Alas, her story,
Why do You not ponder?
She offered heart's ambrosia,
Forgetting the earth;
Why don't You look at her?
In Your idle time,[1]
Whether it be day or night,
At a single niche inside the mind,
Someone summoned, why do You not observe?
Someone who unto You everything has consigned,
Who has got along thinking thoughts only Thine,
A lamp she has kindled through surmise;
Don't You keep an eye by that lantern?
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After calling, how long will You leave me waiting in Your anteroom?
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