That very face of love and grace,
Bikes my psychic being,
I wish to say, I wish to pay,
But nothing I have for offering.
Like the first monsoon my desert She visits,
And sets therein an oasis,
Nothing I have to pay, nothing I have to say,
I get weaned with her blessing .
My tiny pygmy by Her side,
Feels placed in the wide-wide sea,
And thousand Himalayas at her wink,
Erect their heads in me.
The bygone years and the undone ones,
Take away their screens from mind,
Her presence I feel in the Unconscious,
And in the sky beyond wind.
Never I dared to look at Her face,
But meditated only Her lotus feet,
All She impels is, She is Sri Ramakrishna's Bride.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed reading this poem. Thank you for sharing. Tushar Ray