poem – in damodar lake

In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.
Poor sweepers full of devotion for Hari approached him
And touched his feet with devotion.
`Great soul, pray come to our place, and singki rt ans with us! ‘, they prayed.
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.
‘So what we too may attain the wealth called Bhakti
And escape the bewildering snares of life and death! ‘

They joined their hands and implored him.
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.
Seeing them plead, Mehtaji, the kindest of all Vaishnavas,
Was overcome with compassion.
‘The love for lord and the bigotry hardly go together,
For all are equal in his eyes.
Purify the place and wait for me,” the generous Vaishnava replied.
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.

Mehta came withpr as ad and spent the whole night celebrating.
In the morning, he sungbhaj ans
And all Vaishnavas’ hearts were full of contentment.
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.
Singing Hari’s praises on cymbals and drums as he returned home,
TheNagar as mocked him, ‘Is this the way abrahmi n behaves? ‘
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.

But Mehta kept silent, what can you say to unworthy people?
All the men and women of this caste woke up and derided him,
‘O what kind of person are you, O Mehta!
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.

You care not for caste, you care not for creed, you care not for discrimination! ‘
Nevertheless, Narsaiyyo said humbly
‘O I have the support of the true Vaishnavas
In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.

poem – with absolute joy

With absolute joy, I sing thebr ahman!
But those encaptivated by theirk ar ma speak ill of me!
Even the great religious heads cannot fathom you,
They can’t even make out priceless jewels from mere beads!
With absolute joy, I sing thebr ahman!
But those encaptivated by theirk ar ma speak ill of me!

What is arcane even for the scriptures is pretty clear for the gopis,
Rare are the ones who can fathom this!
The beloved of Rama lusts not after women,
But these confounded mortals spread base lies!
With absolute joy, I sing thebr ahman!
But those encaptivated by theirk ar ma speak ill of me!

The perfect one is full of the perfect bliss, others worship elsewhere,
But Narsaiyyo sings the attributes of the absolute
And not carnal craving as the lustful think!
With absolute joy, I sing thebr ahman!
But those encaptivated by theirk ar ma speak ill of me!

poem – the cute little gokul

This cute little Gokul, my beloved has made it into Vaikunth!
He pampers his devotees here and gives unlimited joy to the Gopis!

He, who cannot be grasped by all the philosophies,
And never appears even before the greatest of sages,
Churns buttermilk at Nanda’s place
And grazes cows in the Vrindavan woods!
This cute little Gokul, my lord has made it into Vaikunth!

My beloved, the ultimate indestructible brahman,
serves here all on his own
And stands naked in front of the Gopis pleading for butter!
This cute little Gokul, my beloved has made it into Vaikunth!

Narsaiyya’s lord, who is beyond reach even of gods
And who even Lord Shanker serves,
Gives himself unto his devotees,
So that even the ultimate liberation becomes their maidservant!
This cute little Gokul, my beloved has made it into Vaikunth!

poem – we are like that

We are like that-yes we are like what you say!
Call us depraved by love, we will still serve our loved Damodar.
We are like that-yes we are like what you say!

Our minds were once preoccupied in the worldly matters
Now, absorbed in Hari’s nectar, it wanders door to door singing!
We are like that-yes we are like what you say!

The customs and rituals, we heartily dislike
And even that which gives us all the worldly riches
Can’t be compared to ourlord!
We are like that-yes we are like what you say!

We are indeed base, baser than the basest in the world!
Say what you will; we are neck-deep in his love!
We are like that-yes we are like what you say!

I, Narsaiyyo, am a man of base deeds, for I love Vaishnavas
Who ever distances himselves fromhari j ans has wasted his birth!
We are like that-yes we are like what you say!

poem – true fulfilment of my birth

True fulfillment of my birth is in loving my beloved forever!
Never with dry rituals and harsh austerities
Would I torture my tender body!
All the time I’d play the games of love with my beloved!
True fulfillment of my birth is in loving my beloved forever!

When the final liberation waits on me like a menial servant,
Why should I worship someone else?
True fulfillment of my birth is in loving my beloved forever!

In all our births to come we will ever be your servants!
And the divinel eel a of Narsaiyya’s lord we will sing forever!
True fulfillment of my birth is in loving my beloved forever!

poem – the flute resonates today

The flute resonates today! The flute resonates today!
The women dance with the lord, dance, and sing as they play!
The flute resonates today!

The sound of clapping, the sound of drumming,
The harmony of the jingling anklets unbound!
Mohan is with the women, ravishing and proud,
Their ringing bells, and their melodious sound!
The flute resonates today!

Rapt, oblivious, and absorbed in each other as they happily play!
Says Narsaiyyo, unbound is the joy of the ras players,
As tumultuous love comes down in showers!
The flute resonates today! The flute resonates today!

poem – let’s go and play my dear friend

Let’s go and play dear friend; leave aside the churning of curds!
For spring has arrived, forest creepers have blossomed,
Cuckoos sing happily among kadamb trees, mango trees have bloomed
And hanging around every flower are the mischievous bees!
Let’s go and play dear friend; leave aside the churning of curds!

Wear these ornaments and necklaces, elephant-gaited one!
How many times to tell you to get started!
We’ll kiss the nectarous mouth of our admirer, embrace him, and gambol
Leaving aside all our coyness and shame!
Let’s go and play dear friend; leave aside the churning of curds!

We’ll capture Hari with love and clasp his joy to our heart
He will run holding our hands with love!
Narsinh too is lost in the ecstasy of revelry
And the days we have lost will return!
Let’s go and play dear friend; leave aside the churning of curds!

poem – play raas with us love

Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’
‘More alluring is Vrindavan than Vaikunth, show it to us, love.
Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

On the banks of Jamuna, Jadava plays his honeyed flute,
The gopis slip away, seduced by the sound,
Leaving their crying kids behind.
‘Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

With corrylium in her eyes, she goes to fulfill her promise;
But she has dressed herself all wrong, with anklets in ears.
‘Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

His enchanting face she lovingly eyes, takes his hands in hers,
She offers him everything she has!
‘Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

Enchanting are the woods of Vrindavan in full autumnal moon.
Red, the color of passion decorates her limbs
The girl looks so enchantingly different!
‘Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

One girl laughs, one claps and other excitedly sprinkles vermilion.
Where Radha and Madhav play raas it is pure joy unbound.
‘Play raas with us love,
Play your sweet flute to us!’

One who sings or hears this Radha Mohan Raas,
Will attain Vaikunth, the abode of bliss, says Narsinh, His servant
‘Play raas with us love!
Play your sweet flute to us!’

poem – someone silence that bird

Someone silence that bird; he doesn’t leave me alone!
He is sent by the Creator himself
To shoot the arrows of desolation at me!
Someone silence that bird; he doesn’t leave me alone!

His cry is so beautiful, he cries in the middle of the night
He is no songster; he is a wicked bird
Who kills even those who are already dying!
Someone silence that bird; he doesn’t leave me alone!

It is already dark night, and on top of it, the lightening flashes!
The heart of the maiden separated from her love sinks.
Someone silence that bird; he doesn’t leave me alone!

How shall the night pass when the chataka is singing?
And what will happen if the dawn passes away too
Without Narsaiyya’s lord?
Someone silence that bird; he doesn’t leave me alone!

poem – tell me truly, my dark beloved

Tell me truly, my dark beloved,
To which lovely girl were you making love?
O my wild beloved, disheveled are your clothes and eyes are weary with sleep!
Tell me truly, my dark beloved,
To which lovely girl were you making love?

Bedecked brilliantly like the constellations sparkling in the sky,
My matchless one, why come to me when you sleep with someone else?
Tell me truly, my dark beloved,
To which lovely girl were you making love?

Useless it is to argue with the lustful, says Radha,
O Narsaiyya’s lord, what is your game behind all this?
Tell me truly, my dark beloved,
To which lovely girl were you making love?

poem – always up to some prank

Always up to some prank, this mischievous little Govindji over there
It’s always I who has to suffer!
As this little cowherd foolishly totters, the girl becomes fervid!
Always up to some prank, this mischievous little Govindji over there
It’s always I who has to suffer!

‘Kum now yoo, vow eye doo’, if you can’t speak properly why do you babble like this?
Says Narsaiyyo, stop all these childish pranks, just take us to your place, and enjoy us!
Always up to some prank, this mischievous little Govindji over there
It’s always I who has to suffer!

Poem – Listen My Beautiful One

‘Listen, my beautiful one ‘, says Shri Hari, ‘I won’t ever leave your place!

There’s no girl like you at all with whose garland of flowers

Would I be tied!

‘Listen, my beautiful one!’ says Shri Hari, ‘I won’t ever leave your place!’

I am the lord with garland of creepers and you, a delicate flower vine,

I will water you with the nectar of my eyes,

With love will I enclose you and tend you

Holding you in my strong arms!

‘Listen, my beautiful one!’ says Shri Hari, ‘I won’t ever leave your place!

How lucky you are, my lovely one, and how fortunate! 

Is it because you have mastered some magic charm,

That I, who can untie the bonds of the fourteen worlds,

Am tied with your garland of flowers?

‘Listen my beautiful one,’ says Shri Hari, ‘I won’t ever leave your place!
I plead, proud one, please comply! 

Never ever will I leave your place, I swear!’ 

Narsaiyya’s Lord, brave and gallant

Passionately indulged in the battle of Love!

‘Listen my beautiful one, ‘ says Shri Hari, ‘I won’t ever leave your place!’ 

Poem – Great is The Wealth of Bhakti

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma!

By living a virtuous life, even if you attain

The land of immortality, you will inevitably end up

In the inexorable cycles of birth and rebirth!

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma!
Those who love Hari long not for the ultimate release,

Instead, they desire to be born over again

To sing forever, to dance forever,

To celebrate forever and to gaze forever at Nanda’s darling!

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma!
Blessed indeed is the soul born in land of Bharat 

And sings the praises of Govind;

Blessed are his parents for he alone has made his birth a success!

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma!
Blessed is the land of Vraj, blessed is his eternal sport,

Blessed are the people of Vraj as eight magical powers

Wait at their doorsteps and Mukti becomes their maid!

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma!
Shanker and Shukajogi know the taste of this nectar,

So do the girls of Vraj, says Narsinh, who relishes of this nectar.

Great is the wealth of Bhakti found only on the earth, 

Not found even in the realms of Brahma! 

Poem – Gimme That Moon to Play With

`Gimme that moon to play with, Ma! Gimme those stars! 

Gimme those clusters and stuff them all in my pocket!’ 
He flushes, he cries, he stares at the moon

Jasoda wipes his tears, ‘Don’t be so crazy, Kanha!

The moon is far up in the sky! There are kids in every house,

You alone don’t seem to have any sense!’

`Gimme that moon to play with, Ma! Gimme those stars!

Gimme those clusters and stuff them all in my pocket!’
Taking water in a bowl, she showed him the moon

And consoled Narsaiyya’s Lord!

`Gimme that moon to play with, Ma! Gimme those stars!

Gimme those clusters and stuff them all in my pocket!’ 

Poem – Fair One In the Middle of the Night

Fair one, in the middle of the night,

How your jingling anklets chime!

You have woken up the whole town

With melodious jingling of your anklets!

Fair one, in the middle of the night,

How your jingling anklets chime!
‘I came back after vainly groping in the bed,

For I found my beloved asleep with a girl next door!

One after other girl my beloved enjoys!

Surely, this is not what we expect

From some one very much our own!

Fair one, in the middle of the night,

How your jingling anklets chime!
‘At the most we can cover a well

But how on earth do you cover an ocean?

If he were merely a man of our fancy

We’d have shown him the door 

But how do you decline the man you have married!’

Fair one, in the middle of the night,

How your jingling anklets chime!
‘In my garden the mango tree has blossomed

And mangoes ripe are dripping with nectar!

Wake up and relish them, my slender Lord,

I’ll pluck them for you and you enjoy!’

Fair one, in the middle of the night, 

how your jingling anklets chime!
‘In my garden are juicy grapes,

sumptuous citrus fruits, and betel vines,

O Narsaiyya’s Lord come to my place

For my heart is tender and mad!’

Fair one, in the middle of the night,

How your jingling anklets chime! 

Poem – Essence of Essence is the Birth of the Weaker Sex

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex,

For her strength alone can please the mighty hero!

What’s the use of this manliness, friend,

When it is of no use to the lord at all?

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!
A man might attain the ultimate release,

If he sticks to the path of virtue,

But to indulge in the scrumptious joys of pretended anger 

And the lord pleading to make up and other such games,

You simply have to be a woman!

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!

For her strength can please the mighty hero!
Even the gods like Indra and the great sages

Revere the very dust of gopis’ feet,

Considering themselves lesser than the gopis

As they find their manhood insipid!

Essence of essence the birth of the weaker sex,

For her strength can please the mighty hero!
Woman, the treasure trove of fortune

Experiences and enjoys all day and night

The very nectar, the Vedas and the Scriptures

Struggle to express!

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!
Let my dreams come true

My dark one, my lifter of the mountain, life of my life!

For just like the master dragging the meek beast

The leash of love draws Narsinh!

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex,

For her strength can please the mighty hero! 

Poem – Saints, We are the Traders of Rama’s Name

Saints, we are the traders of Rama’s name!

Merchants from distant villages come to us

Saints, we are the traders of Rama’s name!

Our goods happen to be modest and to everyone’s taste;

All castes come to us for purchase.

Saints, we are the traders of Rama’s name!
Unlimited are our assets;

Why should we deal merely in millions or billions?

It is pure musk, buy it if you want-its sure bargain!

Saints, we are the traders of Rama’s name!
To enter the name of Laxmi’s beloved in the ledger 

And jot down the name of Chaturbhuj in a chit – that’s Narsaiyya’s job!

Saints, we are the traders in Rama’s name! 

Poem – Recite O Parrot King Rama’s Name

Recite O parrot King Rama’s name! Sati Sita instructs.

Dangling the cage near her, she makes him rehearse.

‘ I will have green bamboo shoots fetched,

I will make a pretty cage and deck it with exquisite jewels!

Recite O parrot King Rama’s name!’ Sati Sita instructs.
O parrot! I will have delicious bread crumble made for you

And I will serve you with sugar and ghee!

What else, O parrot will I order for you?

Recite O parrot King Rama’s name!’ Sati Sita instructs.
Yellow are his wings, pale his feet and a black band decks his throat

O with his own little tune, he worships Narsaiyya’s Lord!

Recite O parrot King Rama’s name! Sati Sita instructs. 

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!