Her hands and feet were like the lotus, her eyes and her face like the lotus petal. So she was called Padmani.
She clapped her little hands, she toddled about. People, hearing the sweet words of the chubby child, adored her. She and her friends chattered like parrots, and they walked in stately style like swans or strutted like peacocks, the sweet, inquisitive, little folks.

Sahajo says, many gurus walk to and fro,
But they have not knowledge, meditation and remembrance.
They catch many people by the arm,
But they are not able to send one man across to find salvation.

The troubles of all existence are removed, if we call upon Rama.
To-day you will receive happiness, if you call upon Rama.
I, though a widow, have obtained (the joy of) divine contemplation; I call upon Rama.
I, this widow, will constantly call upon Rama.
Let Divali always pray to thee and call upon thee, Rama.

I send thee here no valentine,
I only dash thee off a line.
In trembling haste I send it, —
Give earnest heed to what I say;
I 've a grievous rent in my heart to-day,
I prithee, Taylor, mend it!

White foam flower, red flame flower
On my tree of delight.
Lean from the shadow
Like singing in sorrow —
Pale flower of thy smile, flame flower of thy touch,

If heart's desire were toward the good and fair,
If tongue were laboring now no evil speech,
You'd talk before me upright as a tree,
With eyes unshamed as starlight.

Come, our Aphrodite, queen of Cyprus!
Come, and in the golden goblets serve us
Wine of nectar, delicately watered
Only with joyance!

Stars, so bright about the moon on Lesbos,
How ye'll hide away your lovely fires,
Soon as at the full she greatly lighteth
Earth with her silver.

A fallen Eagle, pierced along the heart,
Saw his own feathers on the fatal Dart.

MORAL

To our disasters we contribute part.

Like a gargantuan screw, the black cloud carves its way through the miniature landscape. A wheat field uncoils like pencil shavings; crows and shingles scatter like graphite dust. Holsteins, hens, and a swayback mare spiral inside the wind's embrace, then plunge like darts into the orchard. In a seizure, the river flees backward. The falls reverse, swallowing their own silver tongue. Tractors, barns, and loops of macadam tangle in a knot. With a metallic shriek, the mountains contract to clench this new dark density.