I feel that I'm possess'd of nought,
Saving the free unfetterd thought
Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power
A loving fate with truth to know.

My northern blood exults to face
The rapture of this rough embrace,
Glowing in every vein to feel
The cordial caress of steel
From spear-blue air and sword-blue sea,
Armour of England's liberty.

My mother my paradise
when closed her eyes,
my earth got lost
in darkness. Now frost
grows on my eyelid.
On earth I'm a helpless motherless kid.

My mind-life
Is a useless thing to ignore.
My heart-life
Is a holy thing to see.
My soul-life
Is a perfect thing to offer.

My mind has gone insane
as if it were a mad-river flowing desperately
breaking the civilization of its two banks.
Come and prevent my mind, o friend,
from destroying the civilization of all my fruits and flowers.

My Loves' mosque, is an edifice of just two petals,
Love is the preist there,
Ye pearly one art the caller there,
Ye, who hath the Yousef's grace.

My love, spurn not this Padmani,
now for another occasion is not meet.
My primal mate, my word I won't break.
How much shall I bear, ye pretender

My life has been the poem
I would have writ,
But I could not both live
and utter it.

My life began with duty's pride,
My life shall live with beauty's light.
My life shall sport with reality's soul,
My life shall end with Divinity's height.

[Excerpt from “My Flute”]

My inner peace
Does not select anybody,
Does not reject anybody.
My inner peace
Always self-givingly projects itself.