Mind, dear mind
Mind, dear mind, have no sense of authorship,
The sense is full of pain
kind, be kind to your own self, and
Don't think things in vain.
Now that you know/that the transitory show,
Of the five is to end anytime,
Now that you see,/from the death you are free,
and the life is a life sublime.
Find, please find, the feet of the saints who
blessed you and broke your chain.
Kind, be kind...
The author of the whole,
The world and the soul,
Is the One now you see all-around.
why vie with the maker,/life-giver and the taker;
with the will of whom you are bound.
signed, be signed, for the service of the saints
who turned your loss into gain.
Kind, be kind...
What, if they don't understand your love!
you please understand their hate.
Enmity and hate are the grace of God who
wants your role to be great.
Wind, please, wind
The caravan of love to pass throgh
their narrow-narrow lane,
Kind, be kind...
Poem:H.S.Nirman
Submitted By: Vikram on 07 -Nov-2010 | View: 1699
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