The huge old earth shook and quivered,
When it heard my passionate cry.
Why, even the little stars shivered
And almost went out in the sky.
But the earth and the stars knew better,
Whispering below and above,
'If the fool will be faithless, let her.'—
So nothing went out but my love.
HE turned his face apart, and gave a sigh
And a strange whimper—such a pitiful thing
As haunts the heart for days. “Yes, Love can bring
Unto a pass so low that it seems high:
And, when we see a brave and strong man cry
With a poor infant's feeble sorrowing,
It is a nobler passion than to wing
Shafts of small angers and small prides,” thought I.
There is a love so deaf that it can hear
Not even its own voice which bids it seek
A name for its own meanness: it would find
The outlet else. But thus it is a sheer
Hedge, that divides the lovely
Garden, and myself from me,
Never in you so fair a rose I see
As she who is my lady,
Loving, sweet and holy:
Who as I stretch my hand to you
Presses it, so softly, too.
Eternal spring of boundless grace,
It lifts the soul above,
Where God the Son unveils his face,
And shows that Heaven is love.
Love that revolves through endless years--
Love that can never pall;
Love which excludes the gloom of fears,
Love to whom God is all!
Love which can ransom every slave,
And set the pris'ner free;
Gild the dark horrors of the grave,
And still the raging sea.
Let but the partial smile of Heaven
Upon the bosom play,
The mystic sound of sins forgiven,
Can waft the soul away.
HEAR, ye ladies that despise
What the mighty Love has done;
Fear examples and be wise:
Fair Callisto was a nun;
Leda, sailing on the stream
To deceive the hopes of man,
Love accounting but a dream,
Doted on a silver swan;
Danae, in a brazen tower,
Where no love was, loved a shower.
Hear, ye ladies that are coy,
What the mighty Love can do;
Fear the fierceness of the boy:
Under the shade of a Jasmine tree
A little distance from the tavern, on that turn of the road
Two bodies
Burned out in the fire of love
Love, the word of devotion
Love, their God
Love, their funeral pyre
Two bodies
Moist in the dew, bathed in the moonlight
Like two newly bloomed flowers
Cool fresh breeze from the gardens
Wallowed in grief
Winding itself through the dark tresses
Stayed for a brief moment on the warm faces
We saw them
In the mornings and in the nights
In ecstasy and in agony
My friend
who sleeps on my lap
loves someone else.
He says he is a man
and a man needs a woman
and I disagree.
We argue until he grows
tired of talking
and sleeps on my lap
on this chilly night.
And I sigh,
knowing he loves
someone else
but still sleeps
gently on my lap,
innocent, not knowing
that I am here
slaughtering
one wicked wish
that when he wakes up
I shall be his dream.
He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.
He who wears the garb of Love
Gets blessings from above.
Soon as he drinks from this cup
No questions and no answers remain.
He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.
He who has the Beloved in his heart,
He is fulfilled with his Love.
No need he has for formality,
He just enjoys his ecstasy.
He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.
He who has seen my Mother
can he hate his brother?
She loves everyone in the three worlds;
her heart cries for all.
With her there's no difference of caste,
no distinction between high and low;
all are the same.
If she sees a Candala
like Rama with Guhak
she clasps him to her breast.
Ma is our Great Illusion, highest Nature, and
Father our highest Self;
that's why one feels love for all
we feel love for all.
If you worship the Mother
hating her children
she won't accept your puja;
the Ten-Armed One will not.
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires:
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.