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The life of a fish depends upon water and it can’t at any cost survive
without it. My condition may be like that, O my soul, the same may be my
condition!
On beholding the clouds of the first month of monsoon the peacock
becomes intoxicated and in the deep delirium of love cannot but dance. My
condition may be like that, O my Soul, the same may be my condition!
Whether a water-drop is available of not and the rain hears its
silent scuffles with thunder, the ascetic-like pied crested cuckoo
renouncing its penance, never drinks even a little drop of water. My
condition may be like that, O my Soul, the same may be my condition!
The night sweet on account of the beloved’s meeting terminates in a
moment and the whole day of separation seems to be lengthy aeons of ages.
Still, the Chakora partridge, delighted by the pain, looks at the sky,
utterly unaffected by the body’s fatigue and the neck’s aching. She
swallows live coals hoping that the breeze would take her upward. There if
she is lucky enough to meet her beloved, it would place her on the forehead
and provide place in its heart. My condition may be like that, O my Soul,
the same may be my condition!
And how abundant is the love of the deer? The hunter playing on his
harp is standing with an arrow in front of it, but it has lost
consciousness. It desires to intermingle in the supreme sea, excessiveness
of love. Oh, that loving deer’s love! My condition may be like that, O my
Soul, the same may be my condition!
O my Life! Before Thee I have hardly anything for revelation. Like
a loadstone and magnet we have not but felt attraction for each other and
like water and milk shall never be separated. |
