A Cowherding Girl – Mirabai

The plums tasted
sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl-
but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly,
low-caste, ill mannered and dirty,
but the god took the
fruit she’d been sucking.
Why? She’d knew how to love.
She might not distinquish
splendor from filth
but she’d tasted the nectar of passion.
Might not know any Veda,
but a chariot swept her away-
now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound
to her god.
The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira,
will save anyone
who can practice rapture like that-
I myself in a previous birth
was a cowherding girl
at Gokul.

Poem – A Cowherding Girl – Mirabai

The plums tasted 

sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl- 

but what manners! To chew into each! She 

was ungainly, 

low-caste, ill mannered and dirty, 

but the god took the 

fruit she’d been sucking. 

Why? She’d knew how to love. 

She might not distinquish 

splendor from filth 

but she’d tasted the nectar of passion. 

Might not know any Veda, 

but a chariot swept her away- 

now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound 

to her god. 

The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira, 

will save anyone 

who can practice rapture like that- 

I myself in a previous birth 

was a cowherding girl 

at Gokul.