Classic Poem

Were my whole body festooned with eyes,
I would gaze at my Master with untiring zeal.

O, how I wish that every pore of my body Would turn into a million eyes -
Then, as some closed to blink, others would open to see!

But even then my thirst to see him,
Might remain unquesnched. What else am I to do?

To me, O Bahu, a glimpse of my Master,
Is worth millions of pilgrimages to the holy Ka'ba!