Narsinh Mehta Poems

One who feels others grief as his own,
Who obliges others in distress
Without being swollen with pride,
He alone can be called a Vaishnava!
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In this entire universe, you alone exist, Shri Hari,
Yet, in infinite forms you seem to be!
You are the divine in the human flesh,
The fire you become among the elements,
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My fruit-like breasts are your possessions, my love
How can they be offered to anyone else?
Come once to my home and I will tell you more, by dear admirer!
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O today it’s Diwali! O it’s the Festival of Lights for me!
For the Lord with garland of wild flowers, at last, has come to me!
He invites me and soothes the searing desolation of so many days!
O today it’s Diwali! O it’s the Festival of Lights for me!
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Recite O parrot King Rama's name! Sati Sita instructs.
Dangling the cage near her, she makes him rehearse.
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Who has sent the old age? I thought youth was here to stay!
Even threshold seems a mountain now,
Even the village outskirts seem remote like foreign lands to me.
The hair on my body has irreversibly grayed
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Pointless it is to lament,
For it's always the wish of the lord of the universe,
The world teacher that prevails!
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Dearer than life is the Vaishnava to me, he is ever in my heart
I leave behind all the pilgrimages, austerities and joys of Vaikunth
Just to be where he is!
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She plays with the dark one, her sweet anklets chime.
In full bloom of her youth, she goes to meet Mohan
Maddened with desire!
She plays with the dark one, her sweet anklets chime.
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O saints, we are the traders of Rama's name!
Merchants from distant villages come to us
O saints, we are the traders of Rama's name!
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