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Poems about Spiritual
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If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
The only vision I have is your sight The only thing I follow is your light.
1.
At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled,
I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing.
This much I know:
God does not wrong us here,
O mother mine, Dau (Balram)forever teases me.
you never gave birth to me,
Sleep has not visited me the whole night,
Will the dawn ever come?
The God separated a spirit from Himself and fashioned it into Beauty. He showered upon her all the blessings of gracefulness and kindness. He gave her the cup o
When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.
'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
This aloneness is worth more than a thousand lives.
This freedom is worth more than all the lands on earth.
I was not aware of the moment
when I first crossed the threshold of this life.
This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike,
strike at the root of penury in my heart.
I wonder if I know him
In whose speech is my voice,
Into all lives some rain must fall, Into all eyes some tear-drops start,
Can you find another market like this?
Where,
Unbreakable, O Lord,
Is the love
Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, \
TELL me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come, O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Awake, Krishna,
awake the lotus-petals
Before me now a little picture lies— A little shadow of a childish face,
There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
(After Gueudecourt) Break we the bread once more,
There's courage involved if you want
to become truth.
Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,
Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;
I need not shout my faith. Thrice eloquent
Are quiet trees and the green listening sod;
There came a whisper in the night, A little cry across the years;
Yes! even I was in Arcadia born,
And, in mine infant ears,
Mira danced with ankle-bells on her feet.
People said Mira was mad; my mother-in-law
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