Classic Poem

Rana, to me your slander is sweet.

Some praise me, some blame me. I

go the other way.

On the narrow path, I found God’s

people. What should I turn back for?

I am learning wisdom among the

wise, and the wicked look at me

with malice.

Mira’s Lord is Giridhar Nagar.

Let the wicked burn in the kitchen fire.







Mira’s God is the lifter of mountains.

I don’t like your strange world, Rana,

A world where there are no holy men,

and all the people are trash.

I have given up ornaments, given up

braiding my hair.

I have given up putting on kajal

(collyrium), and putting my hair up.

Mira’s Lord is Giridhar Nagar; I have

found a perfect bridegroom.