Listen, o ageing soul,
The lover of my beloved:
Your beestings is sweet,
For the giver gifted you;
Feed the many young ones,
They lie begging at your feet.

Many believers, many pundits
Many masters, many adherents
The despicable wretch is nothing
I cannot read complex volumes
I cannot engage in dense conversations
Nor can I comprehend human actions
I see all as good -
That, I believe is concealed.
The seed of love, the bud of goodness
But there is no water.
God, like the sprinkler, disperses water
The good-destined seeds are drenched,
They are delighted!
Tears fill the wretch's pleading eyes.

Like a sterile tree I stand,
All branches dried, all wood stray.
Sterile! no fruit, only sand
To my Lord I humbly pray!
O Lord it is as you planned,
'Tis Your command, 'tis Your way.
Look upon me, lay Your hand,
Water my soil, hail my May.
All is bland, Lord, You are grand,
Love me, dear God, me today.

My Guru, my Love, today I do make a plea.
I have done as you pleased, and it is Your turn now.
Come my Lord, please come to me, it is my profound request
I deeply long for your ambrosial presence
It has been hours, days, weeks and months
Please come my Lord, and bless me with Your presence
O my Guru, my heart is in pain, I want You and forever You...
Please my Lord, come to me, I make this request over and over again...
Once I have met You, my heart will smile, and I will be at peace
But I will, once more put forward another wish!
That I want more of You. O my Lord, stay with me,
Fill my senses with You, I am all Yours my Lord....
I deeply request You to bless me with Your wonderful Presence, my Lord!
Please come to me, my dear Lord God! Please come to me!