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from the June 2017 issue

Born of earth, I fell into contemplation

 

1

Born of earth, I fell into contemplation
Hari, you alone open the doors for me
Enlighten me, be my ferryman
You kindled hope in me. Now fill my cups.

 

2

The sword of meditation slung by my side
I mount the horse of twin breaths.
The oriole’s song, like a veena, fills the air,
Conches resound, all around
Cymbals ring, the river of Practice springs forth,
This is how I worship Shiva.

 

3

Ever-alert Self, she plays and dances
She decks herself in shining clothes.
Always conscious, always perfect
On Shiva’s path, She becomes one with Him.

 

Translation © 2017 by Neerja Mattoo. All rights reserved.

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