Narsinh Mehta Poems

Passing for the wise and faking wisdom,
The fools have arrived to preach!
Disrupting our devotion and flaunting their ignorance
The fools have arrived to preach!
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Saints, we are the traders of Rama's name!
Merchants from distant villages come to us
Saints, we are the traders of Rama's name!
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This is how I bewitched him, friend, I rolled over him in our love play!
'No, no!' cried he as he tried to flee, and he cried out for his mother!
But I clasped him passionately to my breasts!
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'Today Kanuda my darling, has deserted me!'
Radha’s necklace he has given to Rukmini!
In every street, I cry in every house, I search,
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Who is it playing 'panchama' at my door?
Is he not content playing with me the whole night?
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`Gimme that moon to play with, Ma! Gimme those stars!
Gimme those clusters and stuff them all in my pocket!’
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With absolute joy, I sing thebr ahman!
But those encaptivated by theirk ar ma speak ill of me!
Even the great religious heads cannot fathom you,
They can't even make out priceless jewels from mere beads!
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Kaanji, Kaanji is what everyone calls you,
But we will only call you cowherd!
And if you unjustly accuse us,
We will go and stay at Mathura!
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The bliss of my lord's closeness lasted as long as the night.
Then it vanished, my lord's bliss, when my arch enemy-the Sun did rise.
I became indistinguishable from the light, and in no time,
my beloved too was gone.
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In Damodar lake, near Girnar hill, Mehtaji frequently took bath.
Poor sweepers full of devotion for Hari approached him
And touched his feet with devotion.
`Great soul, pray come to our place, and singki rt ans with us! ', they prayed.
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