The plums tasted
sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl-
but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly,
low-caste, ill mannered and dirty,
but the god took the
fruit she'd been sucking.
Why? She'd knew how to love.
She might not distinquish
splendor from filth
but she'd tasted the nectar of passion.
Might not know any Veda,
but a chariot swept her away-
now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound
to her god.
The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira,
will save anyone
who can practice rapture like that-
I myself in a previous birth
was a cowherding girl
at Gokul.
she'd tasted the nectar of passion. Might not know any Veda, but a chariot swept her away- now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound to her god. great poem. tony
Mira’s conviction that she was a cow-herd girl in Gokul in one of her previous births is wonderful. The preceding narrative adds beauty to this statement.
What a generous heart Mira had....a poem on love for God irrespective of caste and creed....wonderful
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such beautiful imagery!