Come To My Pavilion – Mirabai

Come to my pavilion, O my King.
I have spread a bed made of
delicately selected buds and blossoms,
And have arrayed myself in bridal garb
From head to toe.
I have been Thy slave during many births,
Thou art the be-all of my existence.
Mira’s Lord is Hari, the Indestructible.
Come, grant me Thy sight at once.

Mira is Steadfast – Mirabai

I will not be restrained now, O Rana,
Despite all you do to block my path.

I have torn off the veil of worldly shame;
Only the company of Saints is dear to me.

Merta, my parents’ home, I have left for good.
My surat and nirat, awakened,
Now shine bright.

My master has revealed to me
The mirror within my own body;
Now I’ll sing and dance in ecstasy.

Keep to your self your gems and jewelry;
I have discarded them all, O Rana.

My true Lord I have come to behold;
None knows of this wealth within the body.

I fancy not your forts and palaces
Nor want silken robes wrought with gold.

Mira, unadorned and unbedecked,
Roams intoxicated in the Lord’s love.

A Great Yogi – Mirabai

In my travels I spent time with a great yogi.
Once he said to me.
“Become so still you hear the blood flowing
through your veins.”

One night as I sat in quiet,
I seemed on the verge of entering a world inside so vast
I know it is the source of
all of
us.

The Beloved Comes Home – Mirabai

The one I longed for has come home;
The raging fire of separation is quenched.
Now I rejoice with Him, I sing in bliss.

The peacocks at the cloud’s roar
Dance with unbound joy;
I rejoice in ecstasy
At the sight of my Beloved.

I am absorbed in His love;
My misery of wandering
In the world has ended.
The lily bursts into bloom
At the sight of the full moon;
Seeing Him, my heart blossoms in joy.
Peace permeates this body of mine;
His arrival has filled my home with bliss.

That very Lord has become my own
Who is ever the redeemer of His devotees.
Mira’s heart, scorched by the blaze of separation,
Has become cool and refreshed;
The pain of duality has vanished.

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.

Dark Friend, What Can I Say? – Mirabai

Dark Friend, what can I say?
This love I bring
from distant lifetimes is ancient,
do not revile it.
Seeing your elegant body
I am ravished.
Visit our courtyard, hear the women
singing old hymns
On the square I’ve laid
out a welcome of teardrops,
body and mind I surrendered ages ago,
taking refuge
wherever your feet pass.
Mira flees from lifetime to lifetime,
your virgin.

Why Mira Can’T Come Back To Her Old House – Mirabai

The colors of the Dark One have penetrated Mira’s body; all the other colors washed out.
Making love with the Dark One and eating little, those are my pearls and my carnelians.
Meditation beads and the forehead streak, those are my scarves and my rings.
That’s enough feminine wiles for me. My teacher taught me this.
Approve me or disapprove me: I praise the Mountain Energy night and day.
I take the path that ecstatic human beings have taken for centuries.
I don’t steal money, I don’t hit anyone. What will you charge me with?
I have felt the swaying of the elephant’s shoulders;
and now you want me to climb on a jackass?
Try to be serious

I Do Not Care About Social Norms – Mirabai

I will fasten the bells of his love to my feet
And dance in front of Girdhar.
Dancing and dancing I will please his eyes;
My love is an ancient one.
My love is the only truth.

I do not care about social norms
Nor do I keep my family’s honour.
I cannot forget, even for a moment,
The beauty of my lover.
I am dyed in Hari’s colour.

I Am Pale With Longing For My Beloved – Mirabai

I am pale with longing for my beloved;
People believe I am ill.
Seizing on every possible pretext,
I try to meet him ‘by accident.’

They have sent for a country doctor;
He grabs my arm and prods it;
How can he diagnose my pain?
It’s in my heart that I am afflicted.

Go home, country doctor,
Don’t address me by my name;
It’s the name of God that has wounded me,
Don’t force your medicines on me.

The sweetness of his lips is a pot of nectar,
That’s the only curd for which I crave;
Mira’s Lord is Giridhar Naagar.
He will feed me nectar again and again.

Strange Is The Path When You Offer Love – Mirabai

Do not mention the name of love,
O my simple-minded companion.
Strange is the path
When you offer your love.
Your body is crushed at the first step.

If you want to offer love
Be prepared to cut off your head
And sit on it.
Be like the moth,
Which circles the lamp and offers its body.
Be like the deer, which, on hearing the horn,
Offers its head to the hunter.
Be like the partridge,
Which swallows burning coals
In love of the moon.
Be like the fish
Which yields up its life
When separated from the sea.
Be like the bee,
Entrapped in the closing petals of the lotus.

Mira’s lord is the courtly Giridhara.
She says: Offer your mind
To those lotus feet.

I Do Not Care About Social Norms – Mirabai

I will fasten the bells of his love to my feet
And dance in front of Girdhar.
Dancing and dancing I will please his eyes;
My love is an ancient one.
My love is the only truth.

I do not care about social norms
Nor do I keep my family’s honour.
I cannot forget, even for a moment,
The beauty of my lover.
I am dyed in Hari’s colour.

No One Knows My Invisible Life – Mirabai

No one knows my invisible life.
Pain
and madness for Rama.
Our wedding bed is high up
in the gallows.
Meet him?
If the dark healer comes,
we’ll negotiate the hurt.
I love the man who takes care
of cows. The cowherd.
Cowherd and dancer.
My eyes are drunk,
worn out from making love
with him. We are one.
I am now his dark color.
People notice me, point fingers at me.
They see my desire,
since I’m walking about like a lunatic.
I’m wiped out, gone.
Yet no one knows I live with my prince,
the cowherd.
The palace can’t contain me.
I leave it behind.
I couldn’t care less about gossip
or my royal name.
I’ll be with him
in all his gardens.

Strange Are The Decrees Of Fate – Mirabai

Strange are the decrees of fate.

Behold the large eyes of the deer!
Yet he is forced to roam the forests.

The harsh crane has brilliant plumage,
While the sweet-voiced cuckoo is black.

The rivers flow in pure streams,
But the sea makes them salt.

Fools sit on thrones as kings,
While the wise beg their bread.

Mira’s lord is the courtly Giridhara:
The king persecutes the Bhaktas.

O I Saw Witchcraft Tonight – Mirabai

O I saw witchcraft tonight
in the region of Braj.
A milking girl going her rounds,
a pot on her head,
came face to face with the Dark One.
My friend, she is babbling,
can no longer say “buttermilk.”
– Come get the Dark One, the Dark One!
A pot full of Shyam! –
In the overgrown lanes
of Vrindavan forest
the Enchanter of Hearts fixed his
eye on this girl,
then departed.
Mira’s lord is hot, lovely
and raven –
tonight she saw witchcraft
at Braj.

Only He Knows The Bitterness Of Love – Mirabai

Only he knows the bitterness of love

Who has deeply felt its pangs.

When you are in trouble

No one comes near you:

When fortune smiles.

All come to share the joy.

Love shows no external wound.

But the pain pervades every pore

Devotee Mira offers her body

As a sacrifice to Giridhara for ever.

I Will Sing The Praises Of Hari – Mirabai

We do not get a human life
Just for the asking.
Birth in a human body
Is the reward for good deeds
In former births.
Life waxes and wanes imperceptibly,
It does not stay long.
The leaf that has once fallen
Does not return to the branch.
Behold the Ocean of Transmigration.
With its swift, irresistible tide.
O Lal Giridhara, O pilot of my soul,
Swiftly conduct my barque to the further shore.
Mira is the slave of Lal Giridhara.
She says: Life lasts but a few days only.

Life in the world is short,
Why shoulder an unnecessary load
Of worldly relationships?
Thy parents gave thee birth in the world,
But the Lord ordained thy fate.
Life passes in getting and spending,
No merit is earned by virtuous deeds.
I will sing the praises of Hari
In the company of the holy men,
Nothing else concerns me.
Mira’s Lord is the courtly Giridhara,
She says: Only by Thy power
Have I crossed to the further shore.

Strange Is The Path When You Offer Love – Mirabai 

Do not mention the name of love, 

O my simple-minded companion. 

Strange is the path 

When you offer your love. 

Your body is crushed at the first step. 
If you want to offer love 

Be prepared to cut off your head 

And sit on it. 

Be like the moth, 

Which circles the lamp and offers its body. 

Be like the deer, which, on hearing the horn, 

Offers its head to the hunter. 

Be like the partridge, 

Which swallows burning coals 

In love of the moon. 

Be like the fish 

Which yields up its life 

When separated from the sea. 

Be like the bee, 

Entrapped in the closing petals of the lotus. 
Mira’s lord is the courtly Giridhara. 

She says: Offer your mind 

To those lotus feet.

Mine Is Gopal – Mirabai 

Mine Is Gopal 

Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. 

On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. 

Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. 

I’ve forsaken both God, and the family’s honor: what should I do? 

I’ve sat near the holy ones, and I’ve lost shame before the people. 

I’ve torn my scarf into shreds; I’m all wrapped up in a blanket. 

I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. 

With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; 

Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. 

The churner of the milk churned with great love. 

When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. 

I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. 

Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: 

Now with love He takes me across to the further shore.

Mira Danced With Ankle Bells – Mirabai 

Mira danced with ankle-bells on her feet. 
People said Mira was mad; my mother-in-law 
said I ruined the family reputation. 
Rana sent me a cup of poison and Mira 
drank it laughing. 
I dedicated my body and soul at the feet of Hari. 
I am thirsty for the nectar of the sight of him. 
Mira’s lord is Giridhar Nagar; I will 
come for refuge to him.

The Heat Of Midnight Tears – Mirabai 

Listen, my friend, this road is the heart opening, 

Kissing his feet, resistance broken, tears all night. 
If we could reach the Lord through immersion in water, 

I would have asked to be born a fish in this life. 

If we could reach Him through nothing but berries and wild nuts, 

Then surely the saints would have been monkeys when they came from the womb! 

If we could reach him by munching lettuce and dry leaves, 

Then the goats would surely go to the Holy One before us! 
If the worship of stone statues could bring us all the way, 

I would have adored a granite mountain years ago. 
Mirabai says: The heat of midnight tears will bring you to God. 

The Dark One Is Krishna – Mirabai

Thick overhead 

clouds of the monsoon, 

a delight to this feverish heart. 

Season of rain, 

season of uncontrolled whispers—the Dark One’s returning! 

O swollen heart, 

O sky brimming with moisture— 

tongued lightning first 

and then thunder, 

convulsive spatters of rain 

and then wind, chasing the summertime heat. 
Mira says: Dark One, 

I’ve waited— 

it’s time to take my songs 

into the street.

The Plums Tasted – Mirabai

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.

 

Torn In Shreds – Mirabai

Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. 

On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. 

Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. 

I’ve forsaken both God, and the family’s honor: what should I do? 

I’ve sat near the holy ones, and I’ve lost shame before the people. 

I’ve torn my scarf into shreds; I’m all wrapped up in a blanket. 

I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. 

With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; 

Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. 

The churner of the milk churned with great love. 

When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. 

I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. 

Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. 
~~~~~~~ 

mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii | 

jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii || 

taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii | 

ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii? 

saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii || 

chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii | 

motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii || 

a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii | 

aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii || 

duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii | 

maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii || 

aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii | 

daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii ||

 

No One Knows My Invisible Life – Mirabai

No one knows my invisible life. 

Pain 

and madness for Rama. 

Our wedding bed is high up 

in the gallows. 

Meet him? 

If the dark healer comes, 

we’ll negotiate the hurt. 

I love the man who takes care 

of cows. The cowherd. 

Cowherd and dancer. 

My eyes are drunk, 

worn out from making love 

with him. We are one. 

I am now his dark color. 

People notice me, point fingers at me. 

They see my desire, 

since I’m walking about like a lunatic. 

I’m wiped out, gone. 

Yet no one knows I live with my prince, 

the cowherd. 

The palace can’t contain me. 

I leave it behind. 

I couldn’t care less about gossip 

or my royal name. 

I’ll be with him 

in all his gardens. 

The Heat Of Midnight Tears – Mirabai

Listen, my friend, this road is the heart opening, 

Kissing his feet, resistance broken, tears all night. 
If we could reach the Lord through immersion in water, 

I would have asked to be born a fish in this life. 

If we could reach Him through nothing but berries and wild nuts, 

Then surely the saints would have been monkeys when they came from the womb! 

If we could reach him by munching lettuce and dry leaves, 

Then the goats would surely go to the Holy One before us! 
If the worship of stone statues could bring us all the way, 

I would have adored a granite mountain years ago. 
Mirabai says: The heat of midnight tears will bring you to God. 

Why Mira Can’T Come Back To Her Old House – Mirabai

The colors of the Dark One have penetrated Mira’s body; all the other colors washed out. 

Making love with the Dark One and eating little, those are my pearls and my carnelians. 

Meditation beads and the forehead streak, those are my scarves and my rings. 

That’s enough feminine wiles for me. My teacher taught me this. 

Approve me or disapprove me: I praise the Mountain Energy night and day. 

I take the path that ecstatic human beings have taken for centuries. 

I don’t steal money, I don’t hit anyone. What will you charge me with? 

I have felt the swaying of the elephant’s shoulders; 

and now you want me to climb on a jackass? 

Try to be serious 

Poem – Friend, Without That Dark Raptor – Mirabai 

Mirabai 1498 - 1546  Kudki , India

Mirabai
1498 – 1546
Kudki , India


Friend, without that Dark raptor I could not survive. 

Mother-in-law shrills at me, 

her daughter sneers, 

the prince stumbles about in a permanent fury. 

Now they’ve bolted my door 

and mounted a guard. 

But who could abandon a love 

developed through uncounted lifetimes? 

The Dark One is Mirabai’s lord, 

who else could 

slake her desire? 

Poem – Drink the Nectar – Mirabai 

Mirabai 1498 - 1546  Kudki , India

Mirabai
1498 – 1546
Kudki , India


Drink the nectar of the Divine Name, O human! Drink the nectar of the Divine Name! Leave the bad company, always sit among righteous company. Hearken to the mention of God (for your own sake). 

Concupiscence, anger, pride, greed, attachment: wash these out of your consciousness. 

Mira’s Lord is the Mountain-Holder, the suave lover. Soak yourself in the dye of His colour. 

Poem – Do not Leave Me – Mirabai

Mirabai 1498 - 1546  Kudki , India

Mirabai
1498 – 1546
Kudki , India


Do not leave me alone, a helpless woman. 

My strength, my crown, 

I am empty of virtues, 

You, the ocean of them. 

My heart’s music, you help me 

In my world-crossing. 

You protected the king of the elephants. 

You dissolve the fear of the terrified. 
Where can I go? Save my honour 

For I have dedicated myself to you 

And now there is no one else for me.

Poem – Dark Friend, what can I say? – Mirabai 

Mirabai 1498 - 1546  Kudki , India

Mirabai
1498 – 1546
Kudki , India


Dark Friend, What Can I Say?This love I bring 

from distant lifetimes is ancient, 

do not revile it. 

Seeing your elegant body 

I am ravished. 

Visit our courtyard, hear the women 

singing old hymns 

On the square I’ve laid 

out a welcome of teardrops, 

body and mind I surrendered ages ago, 

taking refuge 

wherever your feet pass. 

Mira flees from lifetime to lifetime, 

your virgin. 

Poem – Come to my Pavilion – Mirabai 

Mirabai 1498 - 1546  Kudki , India

Mirabai
1498 – 1546
Kudki , India


Come to my pavilion, O my King. 

I have spread a bedmade of 

delicately selected buds and blossoms, 

And have arrayed myself in bridal garb 

From head to toe. 

I have been Thy slave during many births, 

Thou art the be-all of my existence. 

Mira’s Lord is Hari, the Indestructible. 

Come, grant me Thy sight at once.

Poem – Clouds – Mirabai 

Clouds – 

I watched as they ruptured, 

ash black and pallid I saw mountainous clouds 

split and spew rain 

for two hours. 

Everywhere water, plants and rainwater, 

a riot of green on the earth. 

My lover’s gone off 

to some foreign country, 

sopping wet at our doorway 

I watch the clouds rupture. 

Mira says, nothing can harm him. 

This passion has yet 

to be slaked.

Poem – All I Was Doing Was Breathing – Mirabai 

Something has reached out and taken in the beams of my eyes. There is a longing, it is for his body, for every hair of that dark body. 

All I was doing was being, and the Dancing Energy came by my house. 

His face looks curiously like the moon, I saw it from the side, smiling. 

My family says: ‘Don’t ever see him again!’ And they imply things in a low voice. 

But my eyes have their own life; they laugh at rules, and know whose they are. 

I believe I can bear on my shoulders whatever you want to say of me. 

Mira says: Without the energy that lifts mountains, how am I to live?

Poem – A Limb Just  Moved – Mirabai

You taught Your songs to the birds first, 

why was that? 

And You practised Your love in the hearts of animals 

before You created man, 

I know the planets talk at night 

and tell secrets 

about 

You. 

A limb just moved before me, 

the beauty of this world 

is causing me to 

weep 

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.