Classic Poem

O Mind, thou shalt regret the chance once gone.
Thou has received the precious garb of man, proclaim the praise of Hari by deed by word by thought.

The thousand armed, the ten headed, the mighty among kings: none escaped the mighty Kal.
They cried, “I, I”: they heaped up riches and adorned palaces: but at last they went empty away.

Sons, wife, and all, know them to be but set on self: set not thy love on them.
At the end they will forsake thee, fool: why dost not thou forsake them now?

Now, foolish one, waken to love of thy Lord: banish vain hopes from thy heart.
Lewdness and lust will quench desire, O Tulsi, no more than out-poured ghi the fire.