Classic Poem

O Mind, shake off delusion's slumber.
This world of form and name is dream land. Why art thou sunk in sleep? Awake.
These cravings, which to-day delight thee, to-morrow will be as a dream.
Why steep thyself in these, O madman? Awake, O void of understanding.
Beginning and end has Maya's gladness: why dost thou go astray therein?
Brahma's bliss without end or beginning: why hast thou then neglected this?
This priceless birth as man, O Mehar, again and again to none is given.
Rise, meditate upon the vision, that so thou mayest return no more.