Bazi alis Subrata Ray
A Vagabond's Prayer To His Lord. - Poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
A Vagabond’s Prayer To His Lord.
Hay Lord! your sons and daughters,
Whom You love and foster, take your name,
They cry for your support, that you allot,
To cut off the bondage of sense, name and fame.,
In this diversified worldly prison,
They suffer from greed, and debased illusions,
They with their least sense of reasons,
Try to bring You in their heart’s home.
They say, say the devotees, the wises,
Grace Of Ocean is your name,
And when in ardent anguish one cries and cries,
You in their hears ignite your luminous flame.
I am neither a devotee nor an wise,
And I have so many lapses for my daily bread,
I move in the threads of my chemical –head.
The currents and crosscurrent of life’s river,
I am too powerless to wed.
Yet, yet I aspire a shelter in your lotus feet,
Knowing well, no virtue I do merit.
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