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Poems about Spiritual
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DARK Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing
that thy living touch is upon all my limbs.
I am dotted silver threads dropped from heaven
By the gods. Nature then takes me, to adorn
In love, aside from sipping the wine of timelessness,
nothing else exists.
How calm the spangled city spread below!
How cool the night! How fair the starry skies!
Seeing Radha stand alone, Krishna came from behind and blindfolded her with his hands. But his hands could not fully cover her large and elongated vivacious eye
Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving." And he answered:
see so deeply within myself.
Not needing my eyes, I can see everything clearly.
Birdsong brings relief
to my longing
Death is only an old door
Set in a garden wall
When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world.
But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs,
The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Lord Rama! My honour is in Your hands.
Today, like every day, we are ruined, ruined (by "wine").
Don't open the door of worry, but take up the lute!
Then Almitra spoke, saying, "We would ask now of Death."
And he said:
I kening through Astronomy Divine
The Worlds bright Battlement, wherein I spy
I walked in a desert.
And I cried,
A mason came forth and said, \
If all our life were one broad glare Of sunlight, clear, unclouded;
Give me the strength
Of verdant hills
Oye mi ruego Tú, Dios que no existes,
y en tu nada recoge estas mis quejas,
Take my arm
and keep up your promise!
All the time I pray to Buddha I keep on
Mother, when will my hair-braid grow?
milk you said will make it grow,
Our sacred Volumes are the sealed springs,
Where choicest Nymphs, as they of heavenly things
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
This much I know:
God does not wrong us here,
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