Without the Dear One, my home is

 

Pray, some one, convey to Him, my

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.

Songs of Mirabai II

Ages are past undergoing the pain of

separation;

While round my neck is cast the noose

of separation.

0 Beloved One, be kind to me now;

I, who am your maid.

My eyes are aching for a sight of Thee,

While my breaths in regular course do

not flow.

Day and night sighs rule,

When will the Beloved One come?

Now that the heart is entangled in Thee

Difficult for it is to come out.

Why then do Thou create new troubles in

my Path.

When will Mira’: Lord meet her,

To satisfy her wishes.

 Blocked are all the four

Blocked are all the four pathways,

How can I then meet my Hari?

Ups and downs cross this slippery Path,

On which the feet their hold cannot find.

Cautiously and thoughtfully I place my

foot and proceed on.

And at every step I tremble lest’ I fall.

Steep and difficult is the Palace of the

Dear One to climb,

Difficult for me to ascend it.

Far off dwells the Lord while my Path

is narrow.

My mind all the time is swinging and

dangling about.

At stages sit the sentinels in watch,

While the Path is with robbers beset;

What a difficulty have you raised,

Far off have you located my abode.

Mira’s Lord, Giradhara Négara,

To her has her Sataguru pointed out.

Mira, for ages separated from Home,

Is brought back to it.