Budhashaya Behera

Oh my dear child Lord,
You come soon to eat,
I have freshly prepared curd,
And I have kept butter in clay pot,
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When I heard about this beautiful site
From many poet friends, I was happy
They suggested me to join frequently,
Then I started visiting poems here!
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Note about this Odia Poem:
"Oh dear Mother, you are Goddess Saraswati. Knowing that you are giver of Vidyaa (Education and Spiritual knowledge) , we are praying you beholding both hands. First chalk-pen is touched on slate's table and I have written your name in this, Oh dear Mother Bharati, the goddess of Vani (word, letters and speech) . In every school today your pandal is decorated and fried rice, rice seasoned with jaggery and sweet cakes are offered as holy food of worship. Today is the day of Basanta Panchami. We have prepared garland of flowers. Decorating flowers I have made garland for you, oh dear Goddess, giver of Vidyaa. Oh dear Goddess Mother, you accept our offer of holy palm of flowers. Getting your graceful vidyaa, Budhashaya completes this song and surrenders before your holy feet.

ହେ ମାତା ସରସ୍ୱତୀ
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In this busy city of Bangalore,
All are busy and running too much,
Still near this mall I am standing,
Searching for your temples,
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I can feel the richness of devotion,
For my living he values more,
He is my Lord, who plays flute,
In deep forest along with cows,
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I love my Lord, he is love of love,
I love my Lord, he is power of living,
My past is burnt and my pain has gone away,
I am in his way of light, I am in heaven,
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Your grace I get hearing your flute,
So sweet, so true you are,
I am your maternal aunt,
Sister of your mother,
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No one can be pure like my Lord,
Who is also your Lord of love,
No one can be popular like him,
He is people's father for all!
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Oh dear flute player, our Lord,
On which mountain you are sitting?
In which forest you are roaming?
In which land your cows are grazing?
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When his grace falls on
And when the creature catches,
His vibration motivates,
A naive creature gains wisdom,
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Oh my child, my dear Lord,
Your mother is calling you,
You go, go near her with love,
Your aunt is calling you,
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I see near and see his face,
I see far and I see his running,
My child has gone to Mathura,
To see festival of bow and arrow
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Still I am sitting to hear
My Lord's sweet call,
I am still thinking of my nephew,
He will of course come,
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Let us chant Lord's name,
Oh dear people of the world,
His name is truth, he is peace,
His name is bliss,
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Our Lord is grown up
And he is in adolescence now,
He understands how much we love,
His mother and I both of we care,
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Vision I have got by your bless,
Although you are my child,
Still you are creator,
You are my Lord, I am your aunt!
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[Note to this Odia poem: -]
I am chanting your name, oh dear Lord!
Oh dear Lord, my dear flute player,
I never feel tired, telling truth,
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I am waiting for you
Oh my dear cute little,
My dear child Lord,
I am waiting for you
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Summer has gone away,
Winter has gone,
Autumn has gone away,
Spring has gone
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Let me sing and dance, whole day and night,
Let me fall and rise under the warmth of spring,
But let me bloom as flower in his garden,
So that I can spread fragrance to devotees,
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