Lalleshwari

The soul, like the moon,
is now, and always new again.

And I have seen the ocean
continuously creating.
...

Day will be erased in night.
The ground's surface will extend outward.

The new moon will be swallowed
in eclipse, and the mind in meditation
...

The joys of palate and fine apparel
bring man no lasting peace.
They who give up false hopes and don't
put trust in the things of the world,
...

By the highway I came,
But by the highway I return not.
And so I find me still on the embarkment,
not having gone even half the way,
...

If you've melted your desires
in the river of time, choose
to be a recluse, or choose
a family, the village job.
...

Though you are wise, be as a fool;
Though you can see, be as one blind;
Though you can hear, be as one deaf;
Patiently bear with all you meet,
...

To learn the scriptures is easy,
to live them, hard.
The search for the Real
is no simple matter.
...

What is worship? Who are this man
and this woman bringing flowers?

What kinds of flowers should be brought,
and what streamwater poured over the images?
...

The way is difficult and very intricate.
Lalla discarded her books that told
about it, and through meditation
...

The steed of mind speedeth over the sky,
And, in the twinkling of the eye,
A hundred thousand leagues traverseth he.
Yet a man of discrimination can control
...

The mind's the garden of flowers, and
Faith, the florist:
Adorn HIM with the garlands of devotion:
Shower Him with thy inner moonlight
Through a 'Nauri Kalash', in puja
...

What is bitter at first is sweet in the end,
What is sweet at first is poison in the end.
(To everyone is given the choice)
It all depends on the effort put in,
and the unflagging determined will;
...

They may abuse me or jeer at me,
They may say what pleases them,
They may with flowers worship me.
...

I

By a way I came, but I went not by the way.
While I was yet on the midst of the embankment
with its crazy bridges, the day failed for me.
I looked within my poke, and not a cowry came to hand
...

There is a yawning pit underneath you,
and you are dancing overhead.
Pray, Sir, how can you bring yourself to dance?
See, the riches you are amassing here,
...

I searched for my Self
until I grew weary,

but no one, I know now,
reaches the hidden knowledge
by means of effort.
...

The tri-pinnacled lake.
The confluence of, running brooks
Is crowned by a cliff, glittering in the skies.
A bund links Harmukh
...

At the end of a crazy-moon night
the love of God rose.
I said, “It's me, Lalla.”
...

I will weep and weep for you, O Mind;
(my Soul) The world hath caught you in its spell.
Though you cling to them with the anchor of steel,
...

Dance, Lalla, with nothing on
but air: Sing, Lalla,
wearing the sky.
...