Poem – Ravishing Is Her Youth Dear

Ravishing is her youth dear, for she has ensnared the lord of Yadus!

In the bed, rapturously she took him on her breast.

Ravishing is her youth dear, for she has ensnared the lord of Yadus!

Unrestrained, she was with the dark one at amorous play!

In inner union, she tasted the nectar of his lips.

Ravishing is her youth dear, for she has ensnared the lord of Yadus! 

Never does he leave his love alone, wherever she looks he is always there!

Says Narsinh, by whom the lord stands by has no fear in the life.

Ravishing is her youth dear, for she has ensnared the lord of Yadus! 

Poem – Pointless It Is To Lament

Pointless it is to lament,

For it’s always the wish of the lord of the universe,

The world teacher that prevails!

Never is it as we wish it to be.

One who knows this is finally saved.

Pointless it is to lament!
To think that one is the real doer of the deeds

Is sheer ignorance

Like that of a dog trotting under the cart

And thinking that he is carrying the burden!

Indeed whole cosmos is ordered like this

Only a handful of yogis and seers know something of this!

Pointless it is to lament!
One will never grieve

If this Knowledge is born in him

For by killing Ignorance, his real Foe,

He can have only friends!

Be it a prince or a pauper

His royal cover shelters all!

One foolishly worries what is in store for him,

Vines, leaves and fruits grow spontaneously and on their own!

Pointless it is to lament!
The mundane pleasures are mere delusions

Nothing but Krishna is true!

Says Narsaiyyo, I pray with all my heart,

That I would be able to love Hari

In all my births to come!

Pointless it is to lament

For always, it’s the wish of the lord of the universe

The world teacher that prevails! 

Poem – Garadh 

FOR the poor body that I own

I could weep many a tear:

The days have stolen flesh and bone,

And left a changeling here.
Four feeble bones are left to me,

And the basket of my breast,

And I am mean and ugly now

As the scald flung from the nest.
The briars drag me at the knee,

The brambles go within,

And often do I feel him turn,

The old man in my skin.
The strength is carded from my bones,

The swiftness drained from me,

And all the living thoughts I had

Are like far ships at sea! 

Poem – Fourth Station

Jesus His Mother meets: 

She looks on Him and sees 

The Savior in Her Son: 

The Angel’s word comes back: 

Within her heart she says, 

“Unto me let this be done!” 

Still is she full of grace. 

By us, too be it one, 

That grace that brings us revelation! 

Poem – Dermott Donn MacMorna 

ONE day you’ll come to my husband’s door,

Dermoit Donn MacMorna,

One day you’ll come to Hugh’s dark door,

And the pain at my heart will be no more,

Dermott Donn MacMorna!
From his bed, from his fire I’ll rise,

Dermott Donn MacMorna,

From the bed of Hugh, from his fire I’ll rise,

With my laugh for the pious, the quiet, the wise,

Dermott Donn MacMorna!
Lonesome, lonesome, the house of Hugh,

Dermott Donn MacMorna,

No cradle rocks in the house of Hugh;

The list’ning fire has thought of you,

Dermott Donn MacMorna!
Out of this loneliness we’ll go,

Dermott Donn MacMorna,

Together at last we two will go

Down a darkening road with a gleam below,

Ah, but the winds do bitter blow,

Dermott Donn MacMorna!