Classic Poem

Go to that impenetrable realm
That death himself trembles to look upon.
There plays the fountain of love
With swans sporting on its waters.

There the company of holy men is available,
And one may talk of spiritual knowledge.
There one can mediate on Shyam
And purify one's mind.

There one may bind on
The anklets of good-conduct,
And dance the dance of inner contentment.

There one may adopt a headpiece of gold
And the sixteen kinds of adornment,
Let there be love for Shyam
And indifference to all else.

[Translated by A.J. Alston]