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.
- Shri Yogeshwarji