Dear mother, The Lord did not even

The month of Srivana has approached,

yet no news is heard of his approach.

While dark is the night, and shines the

lightning, the nights in counting the

stars are passed.

When the Lord Hari in my dreams

appeared, little did I know He will pass off.

As opened I my eyes. the vision gone.

how luckless I felt at last.

Taking hold of the dagger, my heart I

shall tear and I will commit suicide.

Mira, the restless one, lies separated,

crying as a child.

Without a sight of Thee, even a moment's

Without a sight of Thee, even a moment's

Rest

                                                                                                                                                    I know not.

Thou meals do not appeal to me, the eyes

know no sleep. the pangs of separation

trouble.

Like the wounded one, I roam about,

                                                                                                               none is acquainted with my pain.

    The day passed in eating, the night in

sleep is o'er.

The life is gone in agony of separation,

                                                                                                          The sight I have lost through tears. 

             Had I known that to love was to invite pain,

To the beat of drum in the city I would

have proclaimed, let none love.

I stand waiting, watching Thy course,

 'cleansing Thy path,

Mira’s Lord when will you meet her?

On meeting Thee she shall find peace.