Short Poems

From the rose-gardens of Time, fragrant and fresh, in ecstasies of light — Day has come! How many an age of silent love hath breathed and breathed upon his cheeks that tender flush of rose?
The blue in his eyes — from what lakes of enchantment hath he drunk? The radiant colours of his thought — from what infinite wonder hath he made? The glory of his love for whom, for whom hath he brought? For whom, for whom the music of his clouds, his winds, his birds? The secrets of his soul for whom, for whom?

If any hungers for the love of Gopala,
The life of such a dervesh as he is rare indeed.
They are happy resting on the image of the Lord.
The world they have forsaken and upon faith taken their stand.
From no one do they need to ask: another thought fills their mind.
They roam as men inebriated — and of their bodies take no heed.
Maluk says — They see the Peerless.
They have no concern with others but are within enlightened.

When the clear days come in, eya! to bring back joy again, eya! and to scorn the jealous, eya! the queen means to show how amorous she is!
Hence away, hence away, ye jealous, leave us, oh! leave us to dance among ourselves, among ourselves .
She has sent out news to all, eya! that from here to the sea, eya! not a maid nor a bachelor, eya! but shall come to dance in the joyous dance!
But then the king is coming, eya! to break up the dance, eya! for he lives in fear, eya! that a man will steal away the April queen!

I will make a new song before the wind and the frost and the rain come; my lady tries and proves me to find how I love her; but never for the quarrels she lays on me will I break from her bonds.
Nay, I yield me to her and she may write me in her charter. And think not that I am mad if I love my perfect lady, for without her I cannot live, so much do I hunger for her love.
You are whiter than ivory, wherefore I love none but you. If I have no succour soon and if my perfect lady does not love me, I shall die, by St Gregory's head! unless she kisses me in bower or under bough.

Then was I one with Him, O brother: I met my love and found true knowledge.

By the touch of the magic stone I was the giver of bliss: then the folly of distinction was cast away.
In Malayagiri I found the secret: then delusions of race, and caste and family were done away.

The water, brought near to the ocean of Hari, to the uttermost drop was absorbed therein.
Vanished the secrets of all varied illusions: then in the one colour Dadu was dyed.

Brother, only if thy soul is spotless, thy body will be spotless too: by no other means can evil be done away.

If thy soul is as charcoal, thy body will be black: try a million shifts the evil will not yield.
If the soul is poison, the body is a snake, Do what thou wilt, still the venom sticks.

If the soul is foul, the body is not bright: many toiled in vain but the evil remained.
With a spotless soul, the body is spotless — This truth, O Dadu, let all receive.

To-day I shall not indulge in lovers' quarrels.
I shall not open the ledger and calculate debit and credit.
Only, once again, I shall fill my heart with remembrance of thee.

O, I have dreamt on many rain-dim eves
Of Beauty folded in the flowers and leaves,
Spraying the grass with laughter as with light
Of shaken pearls that lit her hair's dark night;
But never dreamed her eyes so deep might be
As those with which last eve you gazed at me.

O long black hair of love,
In your dark shades a dove,
My heart, circles in rings,
Beating white wings.

O Lord, Maya has subdued my mind.
Its good and ill it understands not, but as a moth yields up the body.

The home is a lamp, the mind is oil, the wife the wick, the son a flame that burns up all.
I in my folly knew not the secret but ran to fall a prey to it.

Many a day has passed in the world and still the foolish wanders astray.
O Sur, if one but meditated on Syam Sundar, how could one's state become thus wretched?