They say lovers lie,
To give their heart in style;
They say that Love is their Life,
Their oar in the boat of Strife;
They say they are enslaved,
Done in by charm's parade;
They say that they lose themselves
To their Love, and thus win joy for themselves,
They say the beloved resides in the heart,
Which will stop if the lover does depart;
They say they have been born for the One,
The one who does their senses stun.
O Lord! Behold my ironic state,
For, by these statements, the Eternal Truth i would thus state!!!
This greatness of Yours,
Humbles me, bestraddles me;
O! Creator of Space!
Is it foolish to bind You by the heart's pace?
O Lover! When i speak inadvertently,
In a manner that would beguile You greatly;
You go on smiling placidly,
Or chide me ever so lovingly!
O Lord of the Three Worlds!
Forgive me misdeeds in action, thoughts or words-
Forever, enamoured this mind i find-
By Your radiance with which You are said to blind!