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My Paramapurus’a, my Lord,
is covered with golden light.
The bird of dawn begins to sing,
vibrant with new life.
Why all this?
In answer to whose call?
Day and night I seek Him.
The new light sends forth
a blaze of effulgence
and beats its new wings of joy.
My Paramapurus’a, my Lord,
is covered with golden light.
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O Lord, my mind is under ecstasy with your ideation
and does not heed to any other suggestion.
I will move on to your path.
At the end of dark night,
along with the heartfelt song of the morning,
I shall always be together.
I will never think of the flowers of mine that withered away,
and all my events of loss and regret.
By opening the door of my memory,
I will continuously call you, O My Lord.
Forgetting all the surroundings, wholeheartedly,
I will hold you in my contemplation.
O My closest ever companion,
all the sweetness of my heart, I shall pour into you.
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Oh my dearest friend,
come to my village
on the banks of the river Suvarnarekha,
come to the river.
The path leads across the dunes by the sea.
When the sun rises there,
the sky and the sea bloom with colour.
That colour awakens my mind
and gives me infinite pleasure.
In the cashew nut orchard
the coloured birds always dance.
The hawks fly over to unknown places.
The sailor starts his journey
hearing the far song of the rivers current.
He moves towards the sea
without any other thoughts.
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O krs’n’a, I remembered you
looking at the black dark clouds.
I want to keep you in my meditation
by applying the dust of Vraja on the head.
That Gokul or Yamuna is not there any more.
I do not see the boy of Yashoda.
While churning the curd
the Gopiis do not remember the stealer of butter.
There are no flowers on tama’l and niip trees
or the herd of cows shaking bells of their neck.
Where the king of cowherd boys has gone?
To which gokul?
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In your name, in your song I have lost myself.
My mind recognizes no obstacles.
I am always on the path towards you.
In the red crimson dawn,
you have taken your seat in my mind,
filling it wit an unknown melody.
My restless eyes now fixed on you,
are intoxicated with your beauteous, colourful form.
My mind, freed of all attachment and speechless now,
spreads in all directions.
Today I must row my boat in the flood tide
of songs of love for You.
In the moonlit night, full of nectar,
shedding its radiance, enchanting my mind
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Look, oh humans!
An unknown traveller has come to our land.
With the glow of His majesty,
He has filled the earth.
In the dry land, He has made the lotuses bloom.
The unknown traveller has come home.
Go and prostrate before Him.
He has filled the atmosphere with the scent of sandalwood.
He has graced us all with the soft touch of His hand.
Just meditate on Him, the unknown traveller,
who has come in my mind.
He has filled the earth with tremendous bliss.
He has showered His love
equally on one and all.
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In the rivulet flood He has come,
joy has descended into my heart.
O brother let us go together.
We live together, don't fear anyone
We eat together, laugh together
In happiness and sorrow we remain firm in ideology.
When brothers separate, the strength diminishes.
When sisters quarrel, there is no happiness at home.
We shall live together absorbed in infinite happiness.
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We are the daughters of the land of liberation.
Singing and dancing over slopes and hills,
Beside sparkling fountains and streams.
We play the whole day long with kadama and palash flowers,
along lanes lined with shady mahua' trees.
We weave garlands into our hair,
Walking on the meandering forest paths.
The forest deer rejoice to see
Our joyful song and dance.
We are the blessed daughters of Parama Purus'a.
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O Lord, you came in the morning with rhythm
at the time of my going to the forest on my path.
You dived like an eagle, and held my hand.
My chignon-garland then broke-opened,
the bouquet of kadamba-flowers was detached.
You did not mention or tell what for you had come,
to guide me on my usual known path?
My mind was enjoying though trapped
in the pleasant attachments of your melody.
It was intoxicated in the rhythm of your dance.
Why you have thought of inspiring me like that,
while I did not want you, still you came forgetting all
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This red soil of Ra’r’h.
It is like made of pure gold, gems and pearls.
People are sweet, its language is sweet,
and homes are sweet.
It fulfils all aspirations by convention.
Everything of this Ra’rh is good.
It is like a source of light in darkness.
Kindle the lamp of your life here;
this is not just soil, it is our mother.
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Regullat e Postimit
- Ju nuk mund tė hapni tema tė reja.
- Ju nuk mund tė postoni nė tema.
- Ju nuk mund tė bashkėngjitni skedarė.
- Ju nuk mund tė ndryshoni postimet tuaja.
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